1502 2 0
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“I do not know if you can hear me, or if you can talk to me. Some people do not believe in people like you, you know, spirits, ghosts or whatever you are. I do. I know you are here because of what happened here.” I could not speak. I did not feel I could.
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1502129
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Enumerate the small delights/ this bright first morning
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150231
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Sheep are very philosophical, I hear. Stop this hopeless dreaming.
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150122
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The light of day is screaming,
shook by the calls of howler monkeys,
their low roar hanging in the salt,
in the black sand riding the wind,
as Playa Negra outstretches its infinite arms.
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1501910
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When the dark shadows of his limp eyes told us life was slowly seeping away, stolen by his stroke, his wife signed the “DO NOT RESUSCITATE” order and, tearfully leaving the room, she turns, asking a final question, “Think a needy family could use his…
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150122
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Suddenly I'm not feeling it anymore. /
Poetry has become insufficient. /
I can't do it like I used to.
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1501116
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I said hey man, how you doin’? He looked up and nodded but his shades flashed and I couldn’t see his eyes.
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150100
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Oh, you aren't going to lecture us, for heaven's sake?
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150175
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150132
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Dearest Z— There is no way to describe this place. It is a pendulum, caught at mid-swing or maybe just a millimeter on the up side. It is a sense of sweeping, a cleanness. Distant clouds remind me of the day we took the train and the mountains acted petulantly,…
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150184
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It was cold and clammy, but then it got worse. Far worse. Any opportunity to celebrate the unity and harmony of tolerance was soon cancelled.
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150143
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Nights this husband returned home still hungry sometimes, even for her forearms against his own
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150100
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You need only one who notices.
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150184
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He spotted her in Sarasota Whole Foods surveying the artichokes
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150120
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Each had jostled and laboured for his or her place upon the blunt outcrop, in the cold persistent darkness, where the outcrop was merely something that had fallen and not quite been washed away.
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1501108
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I never took more than a few pills at a time, just enough for a treat on Friday night.
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150132
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#2 The Typewriter Inside You by Harmon Gentle—I found this one at a garage sale when I was 15. Intended as a manual for sharpening one's typing skills, by the third chapter it became obvious that Mr. Gentle's sanity had slipped, and that rather than mastering the…
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1501119
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A cheap pocket knife was the only sharp I carried in my backpack and they allowed me that. The man with the pot tattoo on his neck said, “All of us here needs some type of knife. You gotta cut up your food. We don't…
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150111
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It matters little who thought of it first, what mattered was the schism. Or, to be more accurate, those on the opposite sides of the schism. And, of course, you are a part of this, dear reader. You are of one side or the other.
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150140
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We all stared, somewhat shocked and mostly disgusted.
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150021
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150032
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I used to be a poet, you know. /
Better, in many respects, than you.
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150010
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The doctors said, when she was born, that the gills would eventually fade away on their own. Nothing to fear, they said; no more unusual than the rare child born with a tail, or a dense pelt of fur, or a single sharp tooth jutting from its new pink gums.
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1500102
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150043
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It was a wake-up call. A sign that I needed to stop and ask if I was making wise and sensible life choices.
My iPod was full.
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150000
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Meanwhile it was four o'clock in the morning, Pacific time. Seven o'clock eastern. The cat was busy chasing imaginary mice around the hammock—at least Manuel hoped the mice were imaginary. He loaded the next digital images onto the screen. It seemed to
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150052
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Method of divination. Open a book to any section. Drop your hand onto the page. Read that there is an exorcism happening in the other room.
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150071
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She talks about window treatments, how the place is maybe too much for one. Wants me to know she’s not much of a cook, and wants me to smell what’s in her oven and compliment her cooking anyway.
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150000
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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.
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150054
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In his heyday, Burt Reynolds owned $100,000 worth of custom-made toupees.
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