1565 14 10
|
A woman posted a story on Fictionaut about discovering that her husband was a werewolf.
|
156553
|
Rose lifted her 55-year-old legs until they were perpendicular to the bed and admired how girlish they looked. It gave her the sexy legs of a 20-year old, if the morning light was right and she squinted a bit.
|
156530
|
Blend the dog a drink and sit down beside him and draw straws for regrets.
|
156542
|
You want to get laid talking socks
|
156511
|
children love to push the gas up and down my limbs
|
156522
|
Exhausted, weak from the struggle against the personal gift of terrorism delivered by her ex-boyfriend, she died for a few minutes.
|
156433
|
They look like giant golden raindrops, or flying saucers, or peculiar fish out of their element
|
156420
|
Some people hate Waikiki. Not me. Most hotels had lounges with live music, either inside or around the pool. Evenings were spent bar hopping up and down the strip, Kalakaua Avenue. The bars stayed open till 4:00 a.m. It was safe to walk…
|
156454
|
Christmas night was closing in at the Cantrips alehouse in Aberdeen, a firm favourite for riggers and other men and women who lived life close to the horizon. Sometimes, on a Saturday night, things might get a bit rowdy but Mother O'Grady would stand firm and bring out…
|
156444
|
I assume the shape of a pronoun.
|
156454
|
This is why the earth revolves around the sun: refrigerator magnets.
|
15641110
|
That won’t kill me, will it? I asked. Maybe, the doctor said.
|
156496
|
I guess at the end you’re only
looking forward. Or upward actually,
since you can only lie there on your back
looking upward, straight ahead toward infinity,
your mouth in a grimace, with the ghostly
pink lips peeled back from the teeth.
|
156455
|
We pull up chairs. I breathe in her Bath and Body Works vanilla, read her paper slowly and aloud because the ears catch what the eyes miss. Her sentences are awkward, stilted.
|
156454
|
The coin, so little, the watch chain, the youth, the fading softening speech, each hand and finger, the panic modeled on your own eyes, the ashtray, certain stumps along the way, the long distance, the odd feather, the jazz rope gone,…
|
156476
|
will we begin again?We are a wheelFirst touchfirst kissfirst heatThey fade, disappear, come back again.Spokes in our wheel.When again shall we begin again?I hold you and feel myself spincaught in the whirlwind of thrill -the world, saturated with your scent.We hold each…
|
156477
|
You think I don't know, that's your whole stupid problem. You don't believe in anyone. You must enjoy living in a dark lonely universe. I don't know if you know or not about the lights that live in your own head, but I believe …
|
156475
|
I am no different to her, living seven days ahead
of myself, looking forward to looking back,
as we Irish do so fondly
|
1564105
|
addict for validation and cat tongues
|
156421
|
They could cram Rob inside the trunk and then drop him somewhere in the dingles.
|
156341
|
Pinnacles
State Park
lying on our backs
stoned on hash
around a campfire
looking up at the
clear see-through
blue green stars
to the other side
of the universe
I know now
you are out there
I float up to
within 2
|
1563710
|
From room to room, neither closet nor drawer contained any remnant of pleasant memory.
|
156385
|
It's all over now, Baby Blue...
|
15631210
|
|
156363
|
Chant the ice cream mantra.
Prance the do dah day ballet.
Trot the t-bone tango two-step.
Dance the livelong day away.
|
156364
|
. . . he wants to organize society into its most efficient configuration with everyone thinking alike and willingly cooperating. Only then, he believes, can humanity reach its full potential.
|
156321
|
...She smells like Mentholadium all the time which is one of them old lady smells. When I get up there, she says, “I’ll scrub the bee jesus out of you little girl,” and by God, I have a purty good bath that day.
|
156311
|
There is no cement stronger than the one holding a miserable couple together.
|
156353
|
Buyers of freelance writing have a well-deserved reputation for responding slowly, thereby increasing your pleasure in much the same way that the Pointer Sisters longed for a slow hand.
|
156365
|
What a nation!
First we lost our money
Now we’ve lost our funny
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