1471 3 3
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OhYou like quiet nights in?I do tooBut we might not get alongbecauseOnly part of youwants silence
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147044
|
I gave you two daughters.
I gave you four grandchildren.
I'm done.
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147020
|
Stay tuned for my next short - Candle Smoke Wishes - COMING SOON ON A MONITOR NEAR YOU!!
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1470128
|
in White Heat
there’s a character
who reads lips
using a mirror to see
the mouths of prisoners
in other cells
that’s how I feel
when I talk
with you
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147087
|
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147000
|
He woke up four hours later in his car in his garage with the worst headache of his life. He lurched out of the car and kicked over a basket of basil as he toddled towards the door to the house. He stopped and scooped the spilled basil back into the baske
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147040
|
There are songs I know to not listen to when I am alone.
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147010
|
"Maybe…" he began searching for some comforting wisdom. "Maybe it's like this. Husbands live for their wives. Mothers live for their children. And children...well...until they're husbands or wives, they live for themselves."
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147000
|
Hits start, enters numbers, runs the program / Does this again one hundred times / Then takes a break
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147000
|
I was watching the bustling crowd below, sipping on a teacup full of Victory Gin when the scream, no a howl, cut through the murmuring of footsteps and telescreens.
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147073
|
They called him “Albert, the Human Armadillo,” and he was. Rows of hard scales ran down the course of his chest, and he was studied and biopsied by doctor after doctor. “Psoriasis,” they said. “Or, eczema.” They prescribed ointments and oils that left him
|
147010
|
We called him Mickey Habanero, because he could fill his mouth with the hottest food imaginable, the kind packed with the sort of heat that would melt the gums from the teeth of a novice, all without taking a drink of milk or anything else that would otherwise soothe the…
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147000
|
I play in the dirt with cattle bones
while Mother rattles the sky.
She tells me I have my fathers eyes.
The words come through bloody fissures in her lips.
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14701010
|
I told her I didn't love her. She said love wasn't important; she wanted to marry a man she could respect.
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147000
|
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
|
147050
|
Flicking the cigarette into the river the man's face becomes soft, as if waving goodbye to the only real attachment that he has felt in decades.
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147077
|
You don't have to push back so hard. We wore our hair long. We wanted the animals to trust us in their wild open spaces. Everything will come undone. We wore our hair long because we wanted to Be able to find our way home in the dark…
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1469158
|
We are the same shits/
we were in the Bronze Age
|
1469108
|
One day, my feet and hands got into an argument. My feet argued that they were superior because they were not only the foundation of my body, but the cause of its mobility. They were modest in size, yet supported and transported an entire body that towered over them.…
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1469114
|
the mother tells her child the flashes at the horizonare fireworks, not bombs, so he will not be afraid.at night he curls by the door or else he follows her to a different place. he is quiet, then. as if he knows the secret challenge.better if he and all the others…
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146975
|
The pool deck was covered with the bloody footprints of resident gawkers.
|
1469199
|
One moustache hair at moustache level on a filmy bathroom mirror. A red velvet spread on a big round bed. Dear Ma: We saw a bearded lady.
|
146990
|
Sit right down in the chair. It's a glider, see? Smooth and easy movement without that annoying head-swing you get from a rocker. And easy to get out of, unlike a lounge chair. Relax. "Reba" reruns will be coming on in a minute.
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146931
|
I just amuse myself by buying old guns and refurbishing them in my basement as I listen to old Bohemian polkas on cassettes.
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146900
|
I'm getting self-righteous here, Dear Reader . . . [hey! wait a second! this is my diary! what are you doing, looking at it, dude! Hit the road! Scram! Vamoose!]
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146964
|
You left paint and blood smeared on the wall.
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14691012
|
All the things that are his.
|
146964
|
Frank kept looking over at Michiko’s loft.
|
146955
|
In my 14 to 15 year old life in the late 50s I worked as a clean-up boy in the neighborhood butcher shop up on 5th. Ave.,
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146954
|
I am i said pursued by the feeling of being watched.You are she said -- by yourself. As in a dream, a dream you know you're dreaming. Which changes nothing.We are she said watching from the mezzanine, half-above, at once a part and apart.
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