1568 10 6
|
The dictator, what'sisface, was crazy nuts.
|
156763
|
Her smile like fortune’s cannot be coerced but she opens her peignoir. He stares at the sullen bullethole between her breasts, dark blood welling slowly with each heartbeat. Does he bow slightly, turn away whole? You suppose not. She closes the door.
|
156752
|
Once there was a man who wrote in code. He was comfortable among substitutions
|
156794
|
Because you alone must know how to make a smile shine at me and be like the sun, I can only feel its warm and coolish colors becoming that perfectly deepened yellow then on to the red if you please that makes a shy kind of blue out of day. That…
|
156730
|
Connor didn't bother to wait in the line of busy professionals, opting to cut in front of the sign that announced "Line Forms At Other End."
|
156754
|
|
156784
|
Suddenly something clicked.
|
156762
|
The machines are alive but she is not. The pads keep her face from being irritated but my mind isn't so lucky."Let me GO!" she cries....at least that's what I hear. They are waiting for permission for her to go. Eager hesitation best describes the tense…
|
156740
|
I await, here at Sandymount Strand / There's a stony bed and moistened sand / Couples dance away into futurity /
With their dogs upon the shore
|
156723
|
my crotch-heavy press of 'Yes.'
|
156744
|
It was one of those weekday mornings in early spring when Marjorie and I could wander from chapel to chapter house with only security guards for company.
|
156774
|
"I’ve always wanted to write a novel. Like Catch-22, something off-beat that would start by word-of-mouth, you know, and become an underground classic."
|
156754
|
Two days ago, a friend of mine and I met at my house. She was a nurse, and could only visit my house very late at night when her shift ended. We don’t meet often because she is very busy saving lives and generally being a more useful human being in societ
|
156720
|
“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.
|
156764
|
The mind sparkles with Shakespeare. It's like hearing the rain fall. The world becomes silent and dark and the rain becomes snow and falls like snow and rests on the ground like snow and informs the mind with the values of heaven. A distant oboe pins its sympathies…
|
156740
|
We all stared, somewhat shocked and mostly disgusted.
|
15661011
|
I fall in love with a second cousin at the picnic. I make sure I sit next to her.
|
156611
|
Behold! Passion fruit!Aureolin sun condensedRolls off palm and tongue.Spurn taut rounded skinWait for wrinklesRipeness revealed, resplendent —The pinnacle of worth.
|
156600
|
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
|
156620
|
I woke up pissed off—like that feeling you get when you take a long nap in the afternoon. Except instead of being on a couch or a bed, I was trapped in a mashed-up Honda on I-75.
|
1566125
|
Monday will come soon enough to get/
what needs to be done, done.
|
156663
|
It is midnight in Utah, but I can’t tell. It always looks like midnight in a cave.
|
156633
|
two pairs of arms and legs
|
156684
|
He spotted her in Sarasota Whole Foods surveying the artichokes
|
156600
|
Harv and Julianne He has woken here now, on this bed, and on this particular day, many times. His fifth year in the cabin, his fifth December in Helen, his fifth, he is sure, of many…
|
156662
|
A white room is empty but for you, a card table and a chair.
|
156632
|
For a time he documented his facial expressions.
|
156611
|
Andrew had learned the art of being a chameleon at school where his school uniform provided an exoskeleton. Beneath was no costume, just the fragile skin of adolescent ego.
|
156500
|
Slipping into the Sydney Harbour Tunnel like a nocturnal creature fleeing the light, tears stream down my cheeks, spilling from my lips, the pain too great to care about self-preservation. Drunk still, hands clenched, I strain to focus on the world fading into a blur of…
|
1565115
|
The spectacle of weather/
on the prairies approaches.
|
