His looks were polished like his shoes, his hair as black. No one would have guessed he made his living as a thief.

A customary phone call from home. What are you doing she says? Playing football I retort – what else. The usual sigh and a faint giggle followed. Much unlike how it backfired back in the late 20’s and we were going to make it the reason to break up! The p

A rain of stones . . .

First he wrote it in wet cement at the intersection: “Tad Loves Kimberley,” with a big heart around it. He was real proud, you could see. But then later on that year, the graffiti began appearing everywhere, on all the store walls: “Kimberle

My mother moved her things out of my parents’ bedroom into the attic guest room. When I asked where guests would sleep, my father said, “Matthew, don’t be an asshole.”

I walk through nameless streets, narrow and winding, past shops selling scarves, spices, skins.

"Nothingness had had enough. Nothingness had become militant. It had bought a camouflage jacket. It grew an afro. It burned its bra. Nothingness was pissed, and it wanted its stuff back."

If you work with the public, you're stressed. Unreasonable customers. Demanding bosses. Reduced staffing. I love my job, but the workload is tough and getting tougher. What can we do to keep our spirits up?Play Customer Appreciation! It's simple. Assign a point value…

Suddenly everything is delaminating People are popping right off the surface of humanity I am coming loose from my previous lives

It’s so uncomfortable being an Angel in a sack

Mark Reep is a faded Polaroid oracle taped to the only unbroken window of an abandoned house in Ithaca NY.

She said “I have to go”, he answered with his eyes “Don't” and they stepped closer to each other in the kitchen, a step on the tiled floor, the remnants of their tea cold on the counter top.

...Heroin. It helped them get through the tricks and sucked up their flesh.

faith in gravity/permitted them to extol/the guillotine's blade.

Sure my man. Show me the token I’ll show you the slice.