1469 1 1
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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
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1469108
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He knows I talk to angels, what he would call angels. I don’t talk to him.
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146801
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Galloping people, tangled in ballets of hot love, weaving in and out, making a canvas of it.
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1468107
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Dreams / of being a millionaire are replaced by dreams / of being a billionaire
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146855
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On the coldest day of the year, the weather man walks back from the measurement booth across a snowed-over plain, solid as cement and tinted with the pale yellow glow of the northern lights.
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146822
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146873
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Sometimes you have to go wild; you have just to go fucking nuts. You do.
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146800
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The eyelid of the sink blinks silence. The clocks choke on smoke.
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146843
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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
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146821
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—Can you handle a threesome? said Isabella.
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146844
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Lying on a high seat in the south study, this is what I see:
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146872
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That streetcar named Desire, it don't hardly stop for me no more. Leastwise not while I'm awake, and I don't have to be telling no nosy aides why I make them noises in my sleep.
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146841
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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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146832
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I didn't feel when you cut out my spine I'd been throwing up all night couldn't even smell the rust …
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146842
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He brought me flowers once, three wilted carnations I put in water, though the sight of them made me uneasy. He brought me pictures once, too, of three sisters—ten, twelve, fourteen—straddling dirt bikes. He touched my shoulder once, as I edited pictures …
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146794
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He wasn't sure if I was joking.
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146753
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146720
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They think because you are a writer you are not much of a listener and so you begin to recognize all of the great opportunities to be much more of a listener and then you shut your trap and get sucked into the whorls of her big wet brown eyes with Italianate…
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146701
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[This story definitely WON'T be appearing in this month's "Alfred Hitchock's Mystery Magazine"!]
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146731
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No excerpts for you. Next!
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146744
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On a street-lit night in Jeddah.
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146710
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What if
Everything
I have been doing
Hasn’t been heard
By anyone?
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1467126
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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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146752
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We talk of his time in the jungle.
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146711
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He roared back at her, shaking his empty gun in his right hand, waving his left hand in the air. “I am George Burnett, esquire, late of Balliol College, Oxford! I am a hunter, a killer of pigs! I do not fear you, bear; take the pig and be content!”
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1467128
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We suffer//
the one agony only- of having no longer/
any physical effect nor way to speak/
of what we watch to those we watch.
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146753
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Any form of exertion would defile what we are trying to do
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146754
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this is where we end --
the exorbitant eye of forgotten days.
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146700
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You shine brightest under a starlit skyThe moon reflects your beautyAs the wind sings your name sweetlyIt was under the heavens that we promised togetherThat I'll hold your hand and you'll be mine forever... You glow brightest when the sun is at its highestYour radiant…
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146743
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Nights this husband returned home still hungry sometimes, even for her forearms against his own
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