1606 0 0
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When sixth-grade science teacher Pat Farrell assigns an earth-science lab on measuring crystals, the girls collect their materials, read the directions and follow the sequence from beginning to end. The first thing boys do is ask, “Can we eat this?"
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160611
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Burne-Jones hair and big-boned body ever-suggestive of a Titian Venus ... [meets] ... warm like toast, grey smiling eyes and dartingly light-footed,
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160600
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They followed the crow up a hill, where lights were at its brightest below. The teens stood frozen in time.
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160512
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Johnny Rocket is on the I-pad, sad, He says, “Game on, King me, the Queen” Always "it", he eats pork rinds like mad, “King him again” high on amphetamine.In his sleep, ants come up from the floor board to eat french fries, cola, their aorta…
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160533
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I know who done it. Them goddamn taters. I walked around the yard and started picking up pieces of the camaro, wondering if, from above, they’d laid the parts out into some kinda cult symbols or something.
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160511
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years later, she won’t go near the trees
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160500
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Azure felt tired of all her problems remain unresolved, and she felt this was a good opportunity to get one out of the way.
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160545
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I lost a baby two years ago. At 8.5 weeks after seeing her heart beat. I haven't been able to talk about it, but I can write about it. My throat cracks and splinters when I begin to form a thought or word or phrase. I took such great care when…
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160554
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“You haven’t been listening, have you.”
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160591
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Okay, I'm here; I'm participating. Enjoying the back & forth with other writers. Waiting for penises and fetuses to move down the "Most Recent" list, but working around them. Well, that's kind of unintentionally visual.This essay, like many other reads on here, is…
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1605147
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Follow the money. It seeks/
the lowest of the low and finds them here/
in an embarrassing abundance.
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160531
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The ticking must have gone on for an hour before Kathy realized it wasn't a clock. When the line finally moved, the rhythm changed. When the queue stopped again, she glanced behind her and noticed a woman in torn jeans and a filthy sweater tapping a heel on the…
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1605910
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160532
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They watched the seven o'clock news.
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160501
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160542
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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.
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160453
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Magdalena followed the receding tide, her tiny feet leaving no rumors in the hard sand. She gathered only the most beautiful shells and presented them to her waiting Abuela. Her grandmother told her that the only things that a woman truly owns are her dreams. She told her…
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160463
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When I arrived in heaven
Calling out your name
Running just on vapor
Leaving my old flames
I thought I saw you singing
Dripping from all sides
Crying like a rainbow
Reliving our old lives
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160400
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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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160443
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I wrote this paragraph (the first in a series of 14 paragraphs) shortly after Frank Sinatra had died and during my last visit to my boyfriend, M. He had not seen me write something in years.
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160400
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The temperature would drop rapidly once the sun hit the horizon. I had about an hour before this would happen. I stood and put on my coat. The fire had gone out. There was no smoke...
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160466
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Divine guidance. That's why Dad used a blowtorch to set the jug on fire, its contents the “Devil's elixir.”
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160462
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Your usage of the English language / is awkward and passé—
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160431
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Alcohol and American writers have always had a connection–about 70 percent of American winners of the Nobel Prize for Literature could be considered heavy drinkers if not more.
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160400
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I hauled out my Norton Anthology and threw caution to the wind.
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160476
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Maybe it was a trick of the gloom.
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160454
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We sat up in bed. It's two o'clock in the morning. Blinding circular flashlight beams probe through the half pulled shades. Magnified black silhouettes of men's torsos lumber back and forth in the yard. We are in a fishbowl and being invaded.
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1604103
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Words are looking ever so strange today
like a hole in space
a wind in a cloud
a face superimposed over a mountain
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160432
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Lama’s mother is dead. She died when Lama was just outgrowing her ballet tutus. When Lama talks about it, it is with the air of one who picks honeysuckle over jasmine. It gives sunshine, she says, to graves. Our epitaphs are so mechanical otherwise.
Un
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160443
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We came to the dump at dusk to shoot rats.
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