1390 3 1
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The whole scene smells like paranoia.
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139032
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All the time I'm eating I can't help but think of the many different tuna melts I have ordered in diners and coffee shops and how each of them disappointed me...
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13901710
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the moon tops the monolith
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139043
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Skulk like a lovespun spider in a record store corner
on the orange formica subway car
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139023
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As I was reading “Not Your Mother's Book on Home Improvement,” a new collection of light-hearted essays by (primarily) middle-aged female do-it-yourselfers, it became abundantly clear to me that, unlike the women who tell their stories here, I am not a…
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139033
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First Fall in Love by Darryl PriceWhat the black lives matter peopleare saying is black lives matter, too.Just as much. What blue meanies aspeople are saying is blue mattersmore. I don't believe that and neithershould you. What the green lives matterpeople are saying is we…
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139000
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Gibson Park, underneath the grove of trees beside the soccer field. She's buried. But don't say anything yet. Her disappearance will make the news shortly, but it hasn't yet.
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139000
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There was a bird on the windowsill, a sparrow, its silhouette backlit by a view of Uptown. She remembered many sparrows during her forced trips to Mercy Hospital...That was all over now...
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139032
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She is not centered, but she finds her way.
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138930
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So this was how it started. The next day Kia returned to sit with him a bit and the next day and the day after that until the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months. Eventually she found out his name was Saul, that he had no 'proper' job, was o
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138900
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destinies bring me to a damned desert
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138900
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Azure understood now. She felt it there as she remembered what she told Sora after her ordeal with the domed creature.
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138900
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There were six people on the bridge, myself included, and we were making our way across when something exploded—it was more a rifle shot than explosion, actually—and it cut like a razor through the delicate fabric of the moment.
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138964
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It's not stories the quiet lack, but inclination...
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138900
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It’s just another
Day where I feel tired, but I
Don’t know why it’s so.
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138920
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He did not seek a place on a cabinet, nor to impress stockholders with placards of wealth and return; he did not enumerate the downtrodden and asocial with advertised miracle treatments, or write a best seller on the markings of success. All he did, all h
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138963
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I figured he knew what he was doing–he was the crazy one, after all, not me–so we took turns snorting lines of equal volume.
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138911
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Salted sea of summer fingers- sand and salted skinmelt in me; vanilla ice cream lick- your lips; salty kiss saliva- sweet salt of semen run down my chin languid-salty sweat of you.
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138910
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She smiled at him. "You want to know the secret, that's why you want her to tell - not because you want her to be happy."
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1389116
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Irony is written sarcasm. Sarcasm is spoken irony: the opposite of what is meant. Catholic irony in fiction seems deeper and more related to theme. Protestant irony starts with P as do other þing.
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138953
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Somewhere between the bleating of sheep
And the laying of eggs
Comes the licking of frosting
And the eating of the cake
We’re not young enough
To know everything anymore
And you may think there’s no rush
But I know this
There’s a limit t
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1389105
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Not quite full, but bright,/
December 23rd.__
A waning moon for New Year’s Day-/
Portent?
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13891714
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After Slick Daddy — aka Billy Ray Thompson — gave up driving his log truck and took up with playing and singing the blues full-time he was what you might call a hot property around the juke joints along Highway 61. The women didn't seem to mind…
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138964
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I try as much as I can to write but only in as much as you believe―am I successful.
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138932
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138955
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They come to wipe themselves from my memory, but that, of course, is impossible. In this place, we are bound together, the long line of men who have killed me, and I.
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138994
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Fear I’ll be stuck here without a ladder
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138921
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Did I refer to Mark Twain’s typewriter as an animal? Did I call it a hyena? I would not say that about Mark Twain’s typewriter.
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138920
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Charley calls to say he hasn't heard from me. The blinds are gone, so I take a lipstick off the living room table and draw a circle around his head. I make a half-circle for his gut, a squiggle for the telephone cord. He can come over, he says, just to …
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138900
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Reverend Peter Roman could stand it no more. He stopped his speech. He felt a fire burning through him, a hatred for humanity and all the weaknesses of beings not perfect before God. He stood a long while, staring at the congregation. Then, he slowly spok
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