1559 7 2
|
A wave lifted me from my seat, scattering more drops of vomit around, and I thought nastily about bringing the motion sickness bracelets back inside, dripping bags in tow, to ask for a refund.
|
155900
|
Getting answers felt like it was not enough. Madam Mayweather wanted more. She wanted to hurt someone.
|
155996
|
New waitress/bartender
draws my attention to
bare ankles and red hair
|
155983
|
I was talking to this famous female artist
at the reception, (as if I knew anything,)
“If you want to be taken as a serious artist now,
you have to have one long serious eyebrow.”
There was no reaction. So, I said:
“Also, you should kn
|
155921
|
Lucy shrugs into the corner of the train's seat. She envelopes her IPod in both hands as if she's praying or holding a conch shell: safe, secure like when she visited a Morcombe beach in the school holidays. The only giveaway's the white headphone cord.
|
15591710
|
my family's Scottish heritage
|
155977
|
It’s so uncomfortable being an Angel in a sack
|
155910
|
1. Lamia I slapped the venomous dream from his mouth before he could spit in my eyes; fuck him and his rage, fucking Tonton Macoute or whatever he was--and I got the hell out and away from that house and the fires that raged on all floors, and I fled…
|
155962
|
The goose on the roof isn’t aware it is doing anything odd...
|
155910
|
[WARNING: DO NOT OPEN UNTIL 'R XMAS!]
|
155932
|
The combined smells of ocean breeze, grilled cheese sandwiches, incense and sweat and burning herb that wafted over from Shakedown, along with windblown notes from tinny car speakers all rolled into a potent sensory cocktail he hadn’t tasted in far too l
|
155986
|
1. How can one begrudge the cracking open of a heart?When the lava love fire loaded insanity of self-control disappearsAnd the raw spewing beginsYou better be ready for the truthIt ain't gonna be prettyYou'll wish you were deadYou won't recognize where you areYou'll be…
|
155988
|
I could hide away in this tower
But I am Rapunzel
And I will let down my hair
|
1558135
|
|
1558154
|
A delicate thrill buzzed my face.
|
15582314
|
Life, like a kite string, is slipping out of
your hands
|
15581211
|
Wanna,wanna, whoop de loop. Hold my baby, kiss my mom, dance the way I used to do. Desktops, blacktops, cut and paste, speed down hills, learn the rules, Sister Saint Marion, married to Christ. Sixteen, life-green, pink tights, Swan Lake, an…
|
1558152
|
It was Fredrick Miller, not his murdered son Matthew, who was executed Monday night at Henshaw Prison. (the system won't take anything under 200 characters, so this part is just to take up space. please ignore)
|
155850
|
The room smelled of an old rank basement. Boys and girls of all ages crowded the stage. The room was dark with only a few lights that hung from above keeping the crowd dark and silhouetting Chris on drums.
|
155887
|
How many shadows in your soul? Close your eyes, my love, let me / make you blind as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.
|
155700
|
Alysia grabbed her luggage and rolled it behind her. Looking up at the sky, it was nighttime. She could see the crescent moon above, adding to the darkness.
|
15571710
|
Another new spring and the leaves
|
155722
|
Secretly she suspected she was really a witch. She didn't have green skin or scraggly black hair, and certainly no flying monkeys. Maybe those came over time, the more bad things you did, the more ugly you became until all the world could see how horrible
|
155755
|
Life is easier for the handsome. /
They are more pleasant to deal with.
|
155722
|
The Fourth Defenestration took place in September of that year, and it became an instant internet sensation. Mostly because of the fall from great heights into an enormous pile of haufen mist, arranged by a bunch of henchmen pals of Boris and Vladimir
|
155777
|
Suddenly everything is delaminating
People are popping right off
the surface of humanity
I am coming loose from my previous lives
|
1557115
|
So I told her
think of it this way:
you’re my unlived life.
|
15571811
|
|
155711
|
…like candy and puke on your tongue, the fakest broad ever, cruising like a busted prow, busted wheel, mast and stem, these stately wrecks and rotten flowers of perfume and the deadly bitchiness of the modern woman’s expectations.
|
15571111
|
Why do people kill themselves with food? It’s obvious, I suppose. They’re hungry.
|
