We may sniff a gush of something in the rush of heat round a petrol bomb. Or reap a gift from the cracked head of a hero.

The Beatles on TV their last show together as a group and we all knew it smoking dope sitting around in large groups in living rooms across the universe they sang Let It Be and The Long and Winding Road knowing a man

Character & Fitness, the opening chapter to my novel, "Death of the Dying City."

I look as sympathetic as I can, under the circumstance, which is entirely unsympathetic.

. . . once you start reading and thinking about what he's saying, it's like looking at the reflection of your soul in a mirror . . .

...society has tampered with its denotation so much that it is almost incomprehensible without context.

This year, 2011, you bring about my thirtieth year. I'm apprehensive about this, but mainly because my father made me watch "Logan's Run" as a kid...

He fought off the U-boat packs in the Atlantic — one hand on the tiller, one on the torpedo launch button.

Further down a small group of men lolled near a doorway.

Before he became famous Faulkner was postmaster at the University of Mississippi Substation Post Office, a fact that endears him to mailmen around the world.

One by one the hundred matte black drones hummed awake. The buzz was loud on the tiny airfield but died out soon among the waving amber heads of Kansas wheat that surrounded the unsigned base.

The mother continued to stand, marooned in her isolation and Isis' hostility in between table and bed and under the overhead which cast a blue tinge, she held the newspaper- The Daily Mail- which embarrassed Isis- aloft and at an angle, one leg position

I remember the days when my brother and I would walk down Tillman Square, careful to avoid the cracks zigzagging along the ground. Well I did. My brother made a point to step on every one.

the ex now alien

" . . . the government works for the aliens now, taking over the world. That's why everything's so screwed up."