1428 9 7
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Is it my imagination, or is her chair afraid of her?
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142800
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One said 'Yes, I remember.' He was dark and tall and slender
A masterful pretender who laid roses on the floor
Appearing on the eve of morrow, so slow and full of sorrow
With a costume he did borrow, borrowed from the poet's lore
From the rare and rad
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142821
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Macro-Microbe parked his car and proceeded on foot, which was a misnomer because he had no feet. Typical for Manhattan, no one gave him a second glance except for a homeless woman who tried to sell him hand-sanitizer. Macro-Microbe locomoted himself insid
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142820
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"The rider rode his bike in Arizona just about every day and for all the usual reasons....."
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142700
|
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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142710
|
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142754
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Writing opens doors to perception. For example, the glockenspiel smells of gardenias, but the catwalk is opening a can of Franklin stove. It emits fumes of fairyland and olive. And in the green and pleasant country of Scotland and England, vintage trains go…
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1427105
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the poems/
we never got to will remain,
|
142730
|
He's got a rager for Casablanca, the old Bogart and Bergman classic. I can't snap him out of it.
|
142774
|
NO ONE CAN BE A BASTARD FOREVER
|
142733
|
|
142766
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And pity us, this generation of sighing:
|
142744
|
It was that special ache between heart and stomach that made me stop things. That ache that cannot be caused by the mere knowledge that you have steered your life into a completely wrong direction. To feel this pain, you also need to have no clue why and how it…
|
142701
|
Dina was a woman obsessed. She had endured a three hour layover in Chicago and another four in Heathrow for this. (The flight she had enjoyed with a few glasses of red and an HGTV show about plumbing that she could watch again and again.) She had staked out this corner of…
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142700
|
Welcome to the world of (un)reality television. He/she who dies with the most stories wins. Another kind of religion. The Church of Being Famous For Whatever.
|
142753
|
Somebody left CNN on all night long
until the news cycle flipped, crashed
and burned
in its own ruins
|
142700
|
We both looked toward the house. We could just make out a light that was barely visible coming from the side where their bedroom window was. Slowly an evil grin appeared on Darrell's face. He looked at the knife in his hand. "This will do it!" he sa
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142733
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No preview available due to the brevity of the piece. In fact, this comment itself is longer than the piece.
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142720
|
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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142700
|
This story is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental and unintentional and should not be inferred. (Really!)
|
142723
|
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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142710
|
Freedom brings its own fears.
|
142732
|
She is not centered, but she finds her way.
|
142730
|
We were careful not to wake the kids & goodbye with a handshake & my skeleton is trapped with your universe inside.
|
1427158
|
But even if the truth
Never sets me free
I'll know this ain't the end of me
|
142711
|
Carla woke up from her hospital bed screaming.
"Somebody please help me. Please save me. I am begging you."
|
142686
|
Once a friend asked me to write about rape in an email, so I wrote that it is a weapon of war that would not work here because partners do not give in to it; in fact, they would say it is infidelity in relationships.
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1426179
|
The cornbread for dressing cools./
The cranberries boil with one cup each/
of sugar and water. The aromas are nice
|
142642
|
By lunch:
The dryer is an F-5 dervish of mismatched socks, blue jeans and your yellowing college T's, lovingly held onto. For a moment there is a comforting warmth and softness to their smell. In the debris strewn landscape of the living room a carcass
|
142675
|
Whatever you have,/
we can monetize it
|
