1101 2 0
|
Lu loved his mother, but her anxieties nagged at him like poison ivy. You can't avoid scratching it, but the more you do, the worse it gets.
|
110100
|
‘It's perfect,' said Maggie as she lay in the casket. Harold Barnes offered his hand. ‘It's a shame he never got to see it,' Maggie continued as she climbed free of the coffin.
|
110100
|
Can you see the rut? Can you dig your fingers into the flesh?
|
1101116
|
I suppose it was inevitable, This crashing of souls, This recognition of possibility to create. If we were younger, We would make a baby, The ultimate act of faith. Now it has to be something else, Nothing to force a track with night feedings, …
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110111
|
Shirley stubbed her cigarillo out on a dead chunk of honeycomb.
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110121
|
You sleep. The time is soft and slow.
Your dreams are covered with the snow.
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110142
|
All that have changed in me,
I give to you now.
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110000
|
Throughout breakfast Quebec kept watching this investor fellow, John Lytle. She tried remembering something about him, about when they'd first met. Her first impressions were very nearly always correct. But all she could bring to memory now was that it
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11001111
|
I recognized the smile. It was a “I’ve got you where I want you now,” smile.
|
110032
|
Eighteen-year-old Svetlana Kabalevsky was now the widow of the poet Dmetri Kabalevsky, soon to be another widow-whore on the Moscow highway.
|
110056
|
her hands twined up, as carved from stone, each to fit the other.
|
110098
|
It's as if the house knew I was relinquishing my hold on it.
|
110000
|
Welcome to the genocide city zone I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay We've been killing folks here All the live-long day If you want to join us You'll have to pay the price Your soul's the cost, so ante up C'mon and shoot the dice Welcome to the genocide city zone …
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110052
|
Can we ever truly know reality? I don’t think so. But fly in comfort my friend. Lean back and enjoy the thrust of those engines.
|
110000
|
Grayson Warren is living the American Dream: a 15-year career as a city cop, a great wife and two kids. And then one day his dream turns into a nightmare.
|
110012
|
I was sitting at my desk at work and couldn't figure out why it felt like a person with a very weak grip was trying to strangle me. Then, I realized I was wearing a scarf.
|
1100126
|
because you pay/
for it to matter to me.
|
110043
|
IV. Upwards, into the white eye rising, There is will, to stay, yet stays no will to be. Come,…
|
110033
|
|
110094
|
The blood from my palm runs across the rocky surface of the shell. I push the knife into the crease again, searching for a weakness, the one space where the two sides will gasp and then separate. You tell me it doesn’t matter.
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110000
|
I'm in awe of her frankness, how she takes my breath away, how I wish to rush off with her to a splendid hideaway where only the two of us touch the grape-stained mountains and the cerulean sea, wild blades of grass quivering with the breeze. Sometimes th
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110064
|
"Psst! You can't hide behind a broken dream.The gardenia's hint that fills your air with her perfumed scent will remain like a residue on your mind. I wish there were an antidote I could share with you, but alas, my apothecary drawer is empty. Many times it's been my…
|
110054
|
When you say they were too big, too wild, they weren't too big to be giants. Giants are meant to dwarf things. They can't help it. They're not trying to make you feel helpless to give them a haircut. They just grow fast. But they…
|
110031
|
I want to read a story that ends unhappily ever after: one where the bad guy wins and no one gets the girl.
|
110041
|
Couldn't get that first beer past his nose. Fared no better with wine, gagging on red and white. Then someone fixed him screwdriver.
|
109923
|
|
109921
|
Metropolitan I. Atlantic harbinger of this our swaddled dawn: Mistaking moon's sea sweep for this the frown The sky's plain-countenanced creatures maytimes weep Upon the surface-sundown of our lawn, When gaily surfaced for…
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109920
|
The pier stretched out by where sharks came and men waited with beautiful dirty buckets that held strange and dangerous things, buckets with fish guts, buckets with blood, with character, buckets like prophets or a gritty desert walking saviour like Chris
|
109900
|
He woke up four hours later in his car in his garage with the worst headache of his life. He lurched out of the car and kicked over a basket of basil as he toddled towards the door to the house. He stopped and scooped the spilled basil back into the baske
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109900
|
1. HeWomen's heads turned when Remy stopped in the doorway — as they always did. He noticed — as he always did — but paid no attention as he scanned the room. Too nervy to care. No sign of Fiona. Good. It paid to be the one doing the…
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