1484 5 5
|
“If your work is good you will get published. Just keep at it."
|
148433
|
“Sandy likes the way Bob spanks, when he’s done she gives him thanks."
|
148431
|
|
148463
|
It is midnight in Utah, but I can’t tell. It always looks like midnight in a cave.
|
148472
|
This is what it is to feel yourself forget.
|
148442
|
The first and easiest reason was that he never hit me. Well, if he never hit me, then how could it possibly be abuse? Never mind the threats to stab me in the neck. He was only angry. He really didn't mean that. Never mind he restrained me, or cornered me
|
148411
|
. . . nor did mine eye apologize.
|
148400
|
You need only one who notices.
|
148495
|
|
148421
|
He didn’t even have the energy to tell me to tie her up when he got home.
|
148442
|
I got to see me the other day.
|
1483112
|
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,
|
148310
|
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.
|
148355
|
Style Shifts “Oh, yes, my cousin. We were rude boys until the armed gangs started to gather. Used to be we could pass a night driving, playing our songs, acting tough. Yeah. We'd mouth off, flash some teeth, spark some anger when we felt like it. We…
|
148343
|
When I met Gregor Samsa he was still a cockroach, erratic and skittish whenever the light came on. We often spoke in the dark. I empathized with the man. I mean bug. Ok. That isn't fair. You can't call a man a bug because he chirps and eats dried skin cells. A…
|
148331
|
Sweaty feet, drool from the weighty sleep of mid-afternoon naps, the inescapable perspiration of the South: all combine to create the entwined scent of socks and stale toothbrushes...
|
148321
|
The blaring scream from my alarm clock suffices as my wake-up call. It disrupts me from my dream state that I so rarely get the privilege to experience any more. I've always loathed that alarm clock, so I turn it off in the most sensibly aggressive manner I know how: just…
|
1483103
|
’m sure they have their/
cleverest working on it, though.
|
1483169
|
The blood is memorable/
as is the copper taste of that/
momentary certainty of lockjaw.
|
148311
|
She clutched her fat rolls and tugged on a pant leg. "I'm so embarrassed! You caught me on a bad day!"
|
148352
|
—Now that’s a hell-of-a-painting, Frank, he said. Those colors are engaged in warfare. How the hell did you do that?
|
148343
|
I was walking my Belgian Waffle-Hound
Past the Belgian waffle shop
I found a penny on the ground
And did a tiny little hop
I spun around and went inside
The Belgian waffle shop
And bought a little waffle
For my Belgian Waffle-Hound
|
148300
|
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.
|
148354
|
Mon wakes up surrounded by trees. The light is grey, the trunks black.How long have I slept? he wonders.He doesn't know which way to walk. In every direction, the same prospect of trees. He looks up at a blank sky. No sign even of the sun.***He starts walking. Slowly,…
|
148342
|
I give you the rattle of the rattlesnake. I give you a daub of creosote. I give you the metaphysics of glue.
|
148321
|
She continued to cooperate with a city council agenda dominated by globalized privatization
|
148332
|
Sebastian and Janice had been a natural match. They sought to deny this at first because a recovery assistance program was not a place to forge intimate relationships. It worked out wonderfully in Hollywood, but Hollywood, as everyone knew, was just a facade. So…
|
148300
|
“She’s very sick. She’s dying,” and he smoothed my hair along my neck.
“It’s leukemia. A very rare type,” his hand reached my shoulder and stopped there.
“She only has a few months.”
|
148351
|
It’s as she reaches into the fridge for the carton of half-and-half with the grainy waxy photo of the little girl—Last Seen 10/2/06—that the memory surfaces:
“Hey. That’s mine.”
|
148264
|
I'd wear my pajamas too, fitting for the big sleep
|
