1569 2 0
|
Each evening the man allowed himself an hour of fresh air. He and Prickles would situate themselves on the tiny balcony overlooking the same street, a blanket bundled around them both for warmth. These were the times he liked to talk to Prickles the most
|
156976
|
Get comfortable with criticism
|
156911
|
“...you should have something moving around here.” Tracey looked around, then said, “Paul, you should get a cat.”
|
156912
|
...Truth is, it’s because of fabulously wealthy men and women like myself who long ago sucked all the cream out of the bottle, and now we’re coming back for whatever milk remains.
|
156900
|
At night, he saw the commercial, the same one every time: the Watson’s girl, mascot for her father’s pool, spa, and billiards business. The Watson’s girl was a veteran at this, the same one from his youth, the one whose heart-shaped face and cleavage the
|
156934
|
When it was sticky cool at night, he'd pull her hair up off her neck and spin it like a pinwheel. “You could be anything," he would say. “You could be a preschool teacher.” She waited for him to add, “For dragons! For wallabees! For…
|
156920
|
There is just something about a thin, white cotton v-neck t-shirt, he thought, as he ran his hand over bleary eyes and dehydrated lips. He wanted her, as always. But he needed just a little more rest. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail. It…
|
156912
|
I was an alcoholic for ten years, starting in my early twenties and continuing into my thirties. Then finally, after many attempts, I got myself straightened out. My son's birth finally did it for me. It wasn't like a switch flipped in the delivery room…
|
156985
|
|
156921
|
In the house by a kidney-shaped lake, her grandfather was speaking to a stranger about a foreign war that had never ended, had spread close to home.
|
156900
|
“You. There,” said the fellow, pointing his gun like a dead finger. “You believe that water saves the soul, don’t you?” Thomas looked to the other boys for an answer, but they didn’t know any more than he did.
|
156954
|
Swatches of Chinese silk in vivid red and lavender fly through the air. My granddaughter in her mid-thirties reaches for the cloth. I see in her mirror a shape forming; a slim, gray haired woman with a spring in her step. I pause to admire my reflection and pass over the…
|
156985
|
1962, What I wanted was a Levittowner rancher like my best friend had,
|
156945
|
“Reminds me of my safari in Africa. Somebody forgot the corkscrew and for several days we had to live on nothing but food and water."- W.C. Fields Around the next corner is a dark green door a dark…
|
156864
|
I'd wear my pajamas too, fitting for the big sleep
|
156800
|
Mort’s hand-mind suffered electrifying-absence-emptiness; no wife.
|
1568112
|
The water lapped against the sides of the small boat, their rhythm all that I could think of. Sweltering rays beat down, frying my flesh, the insipid salty breeze that occasionally stirred my only relief from it. Gulls circled overhead, like white ravens,
|
156820
|
When they tell you to choose your last meal, it probably hasn't dawned on you yet.
|
156872
|
|
1568168
|
Fear the air and fear the fire./
Fear the land and fear the water./
Creation is out to get you, speck,
|
156832
|
Ty speed-walked down the long ass tunnel that connected his “A” train to the NJ Transit bus, which would take him across the bridge, where he'd splurge for a cab to take him home.
|
156864
|
your words that came crashing over me/
so cold the clear shock was like salt water
|
1568118
|
They could occupy the space//
left by creatures larger and more/
evolved.
|
156850
|
Rumpelstiltskin cried
because you belong to me;
|
1568103
|
Words are looking ever so strange today
like a hole in space
a wind in a cloud
a face superimposed over a mountain
|
1568105
|
It's been twenty years since you left. I should call it a day.Even the Obeah woman said as much. But I don't listen. Instead I sit with old and proper ethnic widows in black, waiting for your return. One of them translates my story for the…
|
156810
|
Tiny was my daughter. Or what was left of her. A mucous-y chunk of what was once in my womb and then wasn’t.
|
156855
|
|
156700
|
Long ago, this painter Brussegem had hung the dark mantle of Outcast Artist” over his shoulders—and over his life, he formed a strict philosophy—Art and Only Art—and protected his solitude and artistry with all his moody might,....
|
156777
|
It's become sort of a habit now when Elsie's husband is away on business two or three times a month that we take the afternoon off and drive nine miles across the river to Marginalia, Arkansas and the Moonglow Motel with its red, neon vacancy sign and although to some, two…
|
