1568 2 2
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Rogue sits bedside in Jello Biafra’s hospital room.
|
1568103
|
We are what we are, and that is zombies.
|
156873
|
My, but how that girl loved to defenestrate! I shall ever be grateful for my obstinacy with never living more than a single story above ground level.
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156832
|
As I gripped the wheel and stared at the expanse above my head, my compass spun wildly. Something wasn't quite right
|
156800
|
Oh, you aren't going to lecture us, for heaven's sake?
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156800
|
a dozen girls with Encarnación's face flit past, whispering kisses along the part of my hair, tickling their hems along the cuticles of my nails.
|
156800
|
The rocking chair will bite your toes.
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156800
|
You cannot go back, you cannot go home, you cannot cannot cannot…Only in memory is it possible to travel back in time. We all imagine it. We relive happy moments, sad moments, we exist, time exists and it passes. We cannot stop it.
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156811
|
My grief is made up of
Demons fighting to
Claw their way first
Out of my eyes
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156864
|
It was 6 a.m. when the phone next to the bed awakened Francesco.
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156811
|
Shirley stubbed her cigarillo out on a dead chunk of honeycomb.
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156731
|
Esmée sat alone at a table on the terrace at Marina Jack’s in Sarasota. She had been there ten minutes and no waitress had approached her.
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156766
|
The ability to "see the ball" is a gift.
|
156722
|
For two days his parents had been fighting, and they would tell him to tell the other one something every morning that was supposed to be some sort of slight at their personal failings, which had been inflamed by their twenty years of marriage.
|
156721
|
if you don't quiver with anticipation you'll barely manage to explode
|
156787
|
I always thought I would feel your hand, always, Lay with you as we flew higher together, laugh with You in the little spaces left between certain trees, like tiny blue flowers that only appear suddenly, made secretly Of…
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156742
|
Dandelions wither as I approach and the grass dies under my feet.
|
156722
|
In the privacy of a booth?
|
156721
|
My father had a terrific argument with his wife, my stepmother, a flaming harridan with a voice like hydrochloric acid, and insisted on driving me back home to California.
|
156620
|
They think because you are a writer you are not much of a listener and so you begin to recognize all of the great opportunities to be much more of a listener and then you shut your trap and get sucked into the whorls of her big wet brown eyes with Italianate…
|
156622
|
At a candlelit table near the back of the restaurant, Jack and Lois greeted the waiter as he delivered their drinks, a diet coke for him, and for her, a vodka and cranberry. He apologized for the slow bar service and promised to return in a moment to take their…
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156600
|
The summer was announcing itself in thick waves of heat that rolled like a slow motion hurricane inside Mark Keeler's 1971 Mercury Montego. The car baked in a…
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156663
|
By fiddling with the time space continuum and mixing in liberal quantities of quarks from his "Li'l Bang Dimensional Digester", Larry created an entirely new universe in his garage. This was a flagrant violation of Cosmic Law. It could not be ignored, nor
|
156655
|
I opened the closet door and there stood Eugène Ionesco lost among our clothes.
|
156620
|
“Tell me a story,” he said, toying with his top hat, running his fingers along its brim.
|
156601
|
I take her hand. More grey dust rolls off the arms, over the railing, into the wind. It’s embarrassing and I let go. I think she told me to throw them away months ago.
I rub her bare thigh. She laughs real soft like. The corner of her lip curls up.
|
156683
|
First of all, there was no snow. I seem to remember that. And there was no Christmas tree in the house.
|
156633
|
Who hasn’t at some point of the day wanted to dredge up everything in your pocket just to see what it is.
|
156644
|
I was so used to the silence of late summer afternoons, when I could roll my hoop through the empty, sunlit piazzas without meeting another shadow, that at first I mistook the footsteps for the beat of a metronome spilling through an open window.
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156643
|
Nights this husband returned home still hungry sometimes, even for her forearms against his own
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