1332 3 2
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The Italian was late. She was supposed to come into the store, meet him in the back, and arrange to take the last of his liquor.
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133243
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A tornado and peacock were bred in his paddock; the couple gave birth to a turquoise lasso.
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1332116
|
I suppose it was inevitable, This crashing of souls, This recognition of possibility to create. If we were younger, We would make a baby, The ultimate act of faith. Now it has to be something else, Nothing to force a track with night feedings, …
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133222
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Ok American dogs. Here my first story I wrote when I only two days old! Then evil moderator delete me and story go away. Now I three days old. I try to remember.
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1332126
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It comes to me at night, the monster. I don't even realize it's in the room until I hear it breathing behind me. It reaches out its hands and places them on my shoulders. Its fingers are furry and soft, but strong. They grasp the muscles on either side of my neck, and I…
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133211
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Come to the park and swing with me, sing with me.
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133164
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As a boyfriend, he knows that such A.D.D. insensitivity could be considered a major liability in the eyes of most girlfriends, including his.
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133155
|
When he leans back from the telescope through which he had been looking, he sports a derby and a Hercule Poirot moustache.
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133112
|
In exactly 100 words, I review the cracks between my keyboard keys.
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1331126
|
Have you heard this yet? The daughter flew home to care for the mother, whose pump is still tick ticking—though now with aid—which means she leaves the kitchen when the microwave clicks on.
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133121
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“Apollo twenty-two. Come in.”, the voice crackled through the speakers of the aircraft. There was only silence broken by a solitary meow and the slight whistle of oxygenated air through the ventilation system. “Captain Snuggles, now that you…
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133187
|
Pale like a tracing of a memory
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133145
|
Art books, paintings, antique chairs, marble tables, full length gold gilded mirrors, oriental rugs, tapestries, a Louis XVI painted French armoire, a wrought iron Deco coffee table, flat ware, silver flasks, mantel lamps, iron gates, a silk settee, theat
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133142
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Years ago, I was involved in a freakish tragedy so startling and heartbreaking that it made the front page of not only my local newspaper, but “People” and “The National Enquirer.” I'm not going to tell you anything about it. This means that…
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1331128
|
the two become one where/
all things end,
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133141
|
Zusman snored on the sofa as Motel gathered his belongings in the dark. He moved quietly as had become his custom in the mornings. Initially he had tried not to wake his nephew on his way to work in the…
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133143
|
Breathe a stench of Eton musk...
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1331129
|
Enumerate the small delights/ this bright first morning
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13311310
|
This time the bag's bigger/than the boy and the door.
|
133132
|
...the relatives didn't seem nearly as fucked up as she thought they would be considering...
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133100
|
It was unusual, a feeling of déjà vu waft in the air. However, this was completely new to them. Mayumi gripped her shoulders as Emi’s lips moved trying to ease her fear. Mayumi did not understand what this stuff was.
|
133163
|
". . those incandescent secrets she would
pepper in. The sister who ran away."
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133154
|
A poem not about fog written in fog with an erasable pen.
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133021
|
"Haven't you ever had some little thing you would rather everyone just left you alone about? I don't like to have my picture taken. Please don't ask me again."
|
1330117
|
She had just done it in the backseat with the man she decided would be her father. Or maybe it was the cast of his eyes under the dim bar lights. Maybe she insisted that this had to be done, to relive the night under the stars, under a dented roof of a station…
|
133000
|
Alysia’s eyes turned to Megumi where her sister nodded. Alysia took a deep breath and stepped back. There was a moment’s hesitation, but she felt Megumi’s hand gripping her wrist.
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133032
|
Being an uncredited bonus composition, written in the sublimest access of divine afflatus this poet believes his lyric verse has ever known. “In olden times, dark was not counted fair”: Those were the words, I think, of some old poet. …
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133055
|
While watching the ever-present crowds
passing by on my insides, I noticed,
by accident, a man smiling
who might have been me, not sure.
Maybe I’m eating soap
for the first time, because I am
either frothing or foaming
at the mouth.
An
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133076
|
in a willow garden lush shade/drapes dark the young woman's small house/with the lone window, the white door . . .
|
1330115
|
Among the raindrops/
occasional plopping snowflakes.
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