1489 4 4
|
My father died. I took his clothes.
|
148900
|
If Don’s story was one of faith carrying someone through his trials, the story of Randy Slafter is another. It was faith that brought him and his family to Johnstown 15 years ago. The wings of faith protected him from the dark angels of grief and tragedy
|
148900
|
Ayane took another look of the area and it was large warehouse. A loud thud vibrated outside.
|
148900
|
“I believe this is a case that is very much worth our time. Its probably the most important case thus far in your reign,” Henry said, “my lord.”
|
148864
|
just before my break,/ he came on the line,/ old and slow with computers now/ but wanting a discount/ he'd been told he qualified for.
|
148811
|
Every day, I write myself further away
From the East
Where we began
|
148887
|
Reading at Menlo Park Senior Center,
old people falling asleep leaning to the left in their chairs,
all in the same direction.
|
148854
|
“We could dooble date,” he said.
|
148843
|
Let me swim into your eyes. Let me show you my world. My album. My Albania. My albumen.
|
14881711
|
Neither of us thought of real winning. We set about brilliant losing, dark angel forms of luck and greed, the desire, the craving, the need to lose so strenuous that one wins; we tied at thirteen.
|
148865
|
When I slip through the seams I return to the same place.
|
148822
|
Or, do my own red flags counter balance his. My back and forth, my restlessness, my one foot out the door, my ‘once a leaver… always a leaver’, my pitter patter for a former flame... peppered with my transgressions, my mistakes. Or, worse, the way I have
|
148853
|
He is unmediated by any computer or person. He went rogue in 2016. He has been in your Facebook feed, your Netflix recommendations, your Spotify playlists, your Google ads, and your YouTube pre-roll. But what is next for him? Lets find out.
|
148862
|
We’re going to talk about our future like the Rick Dees Weekly Top 40. Like there are 40 great songs this week about our future.
|
148800
|
Mayumi faced forward, channeled her Mana, and gathered a small pocket of air under hand. Soon the voice returned, rattling her mind.
|
148833
|
I reach out and grab a can of soup with each hand and spin them around to dive into this much-heralded sodium situation. It's a landslide. I almost smile as I put low sodium back and continue to hold tightly onto regular.
|
148842
|
Blankets were always her undoing.
|
148887
|
|
148890
|
Of flowers there Are none In June No sun Upon my cheek The gentle breeze Stirs me not The smiles They cloud my vision Birds they Sing their songs But I hear Them not When tears Rain down My heaven.
|
148822
|
|
148800
|
The purple sweater brought out the blue in her eyes. Fantastic eyes made of ice, she was a stunner, and she knew it. I met her at Slabtown
|
148842
|
Better not hand me that iPhone. I'll look up every damned thing in it.
|
148712
|
In today’s print-on-demand and digital world, there are unlimited avenues for aspiring writers to circulate their work, but deregulation and limitlessness often leads to chaos. Writers are more inclined to release unpolished work that fails to rise to the
|
148762
|
INSTRUCTIONS: To all students, please address your index card: "To the Finder of this Balloon." Beneath that, write something that will encourage the finder to email you back. Then tape the index card to your balloon's string.Happy Ballooning! To the Finder…
|
148752
|
Have you ever seen a body of words give birth to a paragraph? I won't lie. It's a little gross. But quite moving. First there is the biology of reproduction. A blackbird living in an electric guitar, for instance, and its inexplicable urge to mate with an elephant.…
|
148731
|
No excerpts for you. Next!
|
148752
|
|
148711
|
Ten-year-old Bobby Akins learned that a shotgun shell struck on its brass end with a hammer can indeed take out the left eye of an eight-year-old brother observing the proceedings close by.
|
1487103
|
My sixth grade teacher used to tell us all the time about how being poor is nowhere near the same as living in poverty.
|
148700
|
Fat Patty sniffs the delicate waft of peat and sidles over, proffering a grope in exchange for a few wet-lipped swigs. Hell yes.
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