1418 12 8
|
Larry works the concession stand / near the pier.
|
141877
|
|
14181510
|
The Plaza had a chess-board floor, green wood booths, and the lights stayed up. I might be combining a memory of Fitzie's in Binghamton. The Plaza felt like a preppy soda fountain with beer.
|
141753
|
The tax man he is coming
But I got me no dough
Been looking for some new job
That’s going really slow
I bought a lottery ticket
But dropped it down the well
I went to see the psychic
She said I’d go to hell
Can’t cope, I just can’t cope
|
141732
|
He nodded six times, and waged his stubby fingers repeatedly, forgetting she was simply two wags of the forefinger and a thin waif of girl came running over.
|
1417119
|
In the summer when it's light out later it's my nature to linger a couple of hours in the park after work, just standing around watching the Downtown Divas working the corner, offering themselves to each male driver who stops for the light and I always joke with them about…
|
141721
|
|
141761
|
You're on the good side of thirty, probably with a little girl or boy of your own sleeping at home, and here you are dragnetting at three in the morning. We're all broken, and the scars we trade are all that remains of our fragile, once complex lives.
|
141743
|
|
14171710
|
my family's Scottish heritage
|
141700
|
Emi watched the Perez sisters show each other support. It brought back memories of Mayumi giving her support, even fighting for her.
|
141632
|
—So much for a cocktail at the tender hour of twilight, he told the empty beer bottle.
|
141674
|
Everybody breaks.
Everything splinters.
|
141630
|
Everything needs context, otherwise reality would be nothing more than stardust with a spark.
|
141654
|
John held up his pistol and racked the slide to chamber a round. He told me that he knew a few things. He knew I'd knocked up Nikki. His girl. He knew I'd taken Nikki to the free clinic in Gresham. He knew I wasn't…
|
1416105
|
She looks for the obit, can't find. Over and over, looks. Nothing. Nothing except something touching her shoulder. Follow me. Corridors, doors, along and along, no time to notice that this last is the stage door — she was so suddenly there in the blare and…
|
141662
|
He's driving in the Sierra Nevada with his wife and their small daughters and the girls are fighting and he can't take much more of it.
|
1416117
|
... his skin glistened
like a sharp blade
|
141664
|
“What took you so long?” she asks. She seldom asks me that when we’re done, but today I feel ready to protract the glory, to tease out its rise and fall like the lingering chords of a Debussy pastorale.
|
141621
|
In the graph of life or death, two axes will inevitably meet. Will it be as jarring as two sharp and well-hewn axes colliding?
|
141698
|
Years later he surveys this place again to post something, anything. He plays "sex on fire," sounds that once fueled him. Now he knows the song is about VD, not unbridled potency. Names and words all seem at once familiar and numbing and noise. He once wanted fame or…
|
141610
|
A San Francisco cab driver named Jake, a friend of a friend, was my date for the party. I didn't really like him, but I needed someone to bring. In the 70s free love was the norm, but it was hard to have sex with a guy I wasn't really attracted to. …
|
141643
|
Soon, out of the womb ‘down there' is nuance. It guides you, like a legality, like your own breathing, in and out of overtone, hardcore hodgepodges, those inklings near sacrosanct beyond breakfront negligees and neo-negligence leading the good life. Isn't it…
|
141665
|
I'm fascinated by Don's evolution . . .
|
14161610
|
Shadows are so admirable in film noir
less so on x-rays and mammograms
|
141642
|
Frank shouldered his backpack, grabbed the leather satchel packed with his brushes, palette knives, pens, and pencils, and exited the vaporetto at the Rialto Bridge.
|
141653
|
"... each of them stuck in one finger to sample the goods. Just then Katie felt a breeze on her bare legs. Her skirt literally moving."
|
141561
|
I’m trying to get this said, this piece of fact. If I am a person who can own something, then that something that I own is not me, not me as a person. I do not own my foot, my foot is my own. It’s like a whatsit, a semantic distinction I’m trying to
|
14151410
|
The knees remind you: you are old,/
and broken, and unlikely to improve
|
141522
|
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
|
