1481 6 5
|
His shirts he hangs on the back of the chair, one on top the other so they won't wrinkle.
|
148142
|
Feeding you a taste of croissant
|
148151
|
A tissue, she was saying - hand me a tissue. Her seat belt was locked and she was rocking back and forth in it cinching wrinkles into her favorite blue silk blouse. I can't remember her wearing anything else. Her hands were gesturing - on and on- an endless loop…
|
148142
|
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…
|
148164
|
"...she's been seeming like she's been dreaming while awake lately..."
|
148142
|
The ambient sound wheezes on.
|
148111
|
an elongating boy with butter-yellow flecks in his eyes, and skin patched like a tabby.
|
148100
|
About three dozen people, the doctor told him, dwelt in the small village until there had been a dry spell—a drought the likes of which no one in the region had ever seen before. Theories abounded as to the cause of the drought as theories do: a curse by
|
148100
|
It is your hamsa that protects us,” the girl whispers to me.
“Then I shall give it to you,” I reply.
“No,” she says in the unselfish innocence of her youth. “It is yours and you must keep it.” I smile and kiss her dirty forehead. Eternity passes whil
|
1481105
|
If I could say only one thing more to Tony who died a month ago, there is one thing I could find to say
|
148196
|
Because we cannot know, we keep walking, keep getting up each morning, feeding the cat, drinking coffee. Because we cannot know I'm drinking coffee that morning in Thailand, not on the beach but just off, because there is only one spot where you can get real coffee,…
|
148000
|
"They don't know how this formed or how it got to where it is today. What we do know is that it's not going to last forever." Said Edward McCabe to his daughter who hadn't learned to talk but communicated with her father through her agreement or disagreem
|
148076
|
Up at the top, a quarter mile south, billows of black smoke crawled up the faint blue of the sky.
|
148011
|
While Leif was still very young, his emotions were very easy to read, for they appeared on his parchment coloured skin, named in his mother's writing. When he was seventeen, Leif fell in love. She was a pretty maid, one of the college servants who kept his…
|
148022
|
'Like poems,’ I said
she paused and nodded
her black mop.
|
148095
|
He kept
saying how my old scars
excited him to new truths
|
1480113
|
|
14801310
|
Inevitability: it's what's for dinner.
|
148011
|
I am only ever
What you seem to be
Without the leverage
Of sweet reality
|
148086
|
I am falling, falling out of my body,
falling like midnight onto mice.
|
148011
|
When people talk about the end moments when one's life flashes before his or her eyes, they often refer to time as slowing down. I can attest to this phenomenon during my final moments, before the collision: the song playing on the radio, the squeal of tires and flash of…
|
148000
|
Should probably be faster at the cash register
|
148011
|
another lonely drone holding still
|
148043
|
Before the paint spikes Coney Island to the wind, I walk home through the strum of a shield, colder than the one he left behind. For the hour I sprawl along the sidewalk in her laugh, crater's shadows for Wonder Wheel, he is midnight sun in The Last Waltz. Where the glow…
|
148021
|
"You don't need the gun," Dean said. "Bring me a bottle of peroxide and some duct tape."
|
148022
|
Happy Birthday to me.
It takes just a second on waking to remember,
It's June but it feels like December.
|
148055
|
Eat blueberries every day and you'll live to be a 92 year old mogul. Really.
|
147954
|
The silver urn of ashes inscribed
with his unknown name.
|
147944
|
Robert Frost told me that life goes on, but that’s just not good enough for me and for God’s sake it shouldn’t be good enough for you either, should it?
|
147984
|
A man bows his head
and crosses his chest
before crossing the street
and the rain keeps falling
on his bare blue shirt
and on top of his head
The taxis will not stop
The light’s still red
as the man waits
for the sign of the hands
|
