1390 0 0
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Everyone gathered around Karin with the Mana Spirits. She wrapped her arms around her waist, staring at the ground.
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139098
|
Incidents intensified. The Dead appeared in twos and threes at shopping mall and Wal-Mart parking lots.
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139000
|
The Kid, The Executive, The Doctor, and The Actress.
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13901210
|
"S- E- X -- ever heard of it?"
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13901510
|
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139031
|
The sugar cookie sits on the cold counter. Alone. He is cut in the shape of an angel, a fact which often causes him to contemplate the possibility that he may not be a cookie at all, but an angel. Who says he couldn’t be?
|
139054
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My wife says you can tell the crooks from the cops from the cowboys at the taco truck across the street.
|
139020
|
A dream that seems
Impossible
When fresh blood soaks the ground
|
139064
|
Saturday afternoons: tartan blanket spread on the pebble beach, transistor radio hissing static, fish paste sandwiches and seagulls. Why fish paste, Mum? She didn't dare ask.
|
139035
|
at nightthe mannequins leave their glass prisons and hunt owls in the forest***sometimes they dance a slo-mo tarantella in a clearingbone-white …
|
139096
|
And soon you'll be walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
|
1390119
|
For Sale: Clean Depends, Never Worn
|
139050
|
Paulie opens the curtains in his bedsit to sunshine. And blue skies! He basks in it for a full minute, feeling the heat on his naked body.
|
139030
|
There's something wrong with my feet, if they are my feet at all.
|
138921
|
Look out your window and know that the universe conspired to craft the sunrise for your morning tea, the mug clasped in hand, the light bouncing from the balcony railing. The empty seat next to you will always be filled
and I will never properly thank y
|
138952
|
The cold and the ice’ve really stoked a fire in those old bones of his. He runs with the gait of a racer, front legs straight out—each extension producing a crack like Jack London spitting into the cold...
|
138963
|
It was that pink lipstick found
on the end of that brown filter
yeah, think it was an Old Gold
|
138992
|
A cloudy autumn morning greeted Sean as he stepped from the trolley at Grand Central Station. On his way to the tracks he purchased a copy of The New York Times dated October 24, 1934.
|
138962
|
We cannot cross the river until it freezes. Bekker predicts January. For food we gather leaves, berries and roots from the thick forest behind the cabin. Suarez boils what we find into a revolting paste that we spoon into our mouths with dirty fingers.
|
138953
|
Don reports everything to Uzma and Rasheed, I'm aware of that. It doesn't bother me. I'm not hiding anything from them or anyone else.
|
138922
|
Someone set a pig aflame.
|
138920
|
More and more, as she watched him slide away from her in increments, she thought of that first summer together. How his searching hands would find her, any time of day, and pull her in for closer examination. How his eyes, his mouth, his tongue would set
|
1389109
|
Only last Friday, he was introduced/
around, smiling, healthy,/
a fine young man.
|
138922
|
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
|
13891311
|
Ah, how sweet is forbidden fruit, how delicious undiscovered sin!
|
138973
|
In winter The Woods sleeps and the Woodsman comes. He collects the dead wood and makes coal. He nurses the injured animals and prepares the dying. He distributes the snow and regulates the temperature. In his fur hat…
|
138976
|
Only blood I got on me was pulling him over onto my seat when I got out.
|
138975
|
He knows why I’m here, so he stalls, talking about the coffee, about how it’s a new dark blend from a little shop in The Village, about how he loves the flavor, so rich, but just because a coffee is dark doesn’t mean it’s stronger, that, in fact, it’s the
|
138931
|
Let's start from the beginning. Your mother's face in the phone. Your parted lips. Your surprised tongue. Hands deep in the folds of your skirt. The poet filling your pockets with blue and orange. The poet filling your notebooks with slowly drifting fields and gramophones…
|
138953
|
In his dreamlike state the pianist turned into a preying mantis.
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