1567 8 8
|
the brain plays impish tricks/
and entertains itself with avant garde/
home movies
|
156775
|
... the CBO issued a concise and brilliant report demonstrating that the most cost-effective and permanent solution to the multiple problems presented by persistent poverty in the United States was the elimination of all those with prorated household or i
|
156700
|
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…
|
156774
|
|
156796
|
Earlier that morning a tree in the yard had filled with starlings, and on the way home after lunch, the sky held planes that looked like starlings, floating together.
|
156710
|
“I'll have the Ribeye cooked medium rare,” says Bill, who looks over at Julia, blonde hair and disarming smile, and he thinks that she's not bad for a blind date. He doesn't like the way she butters her roll, however, and it agitates him that she spreads…
|
156741
|
The most unoriginal, trite and hackneyed story ever written!
|
156743
|
|
156711
|
Where the skin had grazed, shredded by the coarse gravel to form scabs, fascinated Jack. It reminded him of his youth and his own grazes, scratches and stitches. As a boy he imagined scabs were rough foundations of igneous rock, blood like lava pouring th
|
156600
|
Rome and Carthage wage war as Hannibal crosses the Alps and invades Italy. With him, he brings an army of barbarian hordes hellbent on reducing Rome to ash. For one young Roman soldier, Gaius, he is trapped between his loyalties to the republic, and to hi
|
156611
|
I dream about the boy in The Neverending Story, the gate of mirrors, and the Nothing, a dark cloud that floats in the sky, takes away everything.
|
156664
|
When I look at the picture on my refrigerator, I always think the same thing: "Hitler was a baby once too, look how well he turned out."
|
15661911
|
|
156611
|
I took advantage of a free period this afternoon to nap. When I awoke, I tasted blood. My tongue was swollen. I checked myself in the mirror and saw twin punctures on my lower lip with pinpricks of blood on each. I winked at my reflection and lifted my li
|
156650
|
"And then I, and I believe,
I alone, saw
this small child
run..."
|
156666
|
I feel his hand on my face, feel it brush past my lips, and I taste my sister's blood.
|
156643
|
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
|
156687
|
...coming into that bone yard, you just hang a right, go on past La Fontaine, and take a left a bit further on. Jimbo's right up in there.
|
156643
|
The plane passes the runway, dips sharply, its shadow straight down below, too cold in the cabin, the sun hitting your arm like a machete below, it is 94, the humidity too, it has just rained for 3 days, it never rains this time of year......
|
156632
|
He painted a woman on them, identical to the woman that kneeled by his bed.
|
156642
|
I was in life, in my dream. I was feeling around underneath your clothing. My fingers were shining in the underwater afterlife of memory, searching for those lovely nipple-sized mollusks. I lived in a land somewhere between the past and the future. Now
|
156600
|
Every morning when he wakes, he lies in bed and waits for one of his toes to twitch or spasm; the moment he feels one of them thrust forward, he gains courage to test his legs. He grimaces either way: one more day of walking, one more day until loss, one more trip to the…
|
156676
|
|
156687
|
By the sixth - Dizz, Falstaff buzzed - Croons - The Wabash Cannonball
|
156632
|
#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…
|
156664
|
I woke up to the humming
of an empty space in the shape of a sweatshirt,
|
156661
|
The lipstick on your collar walked up the steps and through the front door, without a key. Her smile was hypnotically red and bountiful. The guards standing around didn't dare frisk her for weapons, her lips were weapon enough.
|
156522
|
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.
|
156533
|
For me, it was that kind of moment. I got to come back. I had been here before and now, well now, I could come back. I had a chance to do it all again, bigger, better and well, just better. I hoped I could remember all that I learned the first time.
|
156543
|
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…
|
