1250 13 7
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Expose those for whom freedom is greed.
|
125031
|
Most people come to dislike me because of the things I say.
|
125000
|
He started to concentrate on the music again. It was the album with the crazy picture of Monk on the cover, with a machine gun over his shoulder, a tied-up Gestapo officer and a female resistance fighter standing next to—a cow.
|
125000
|
this is your hair, this is your stare, this is your voice
|
125042
|
Outbreaks of mass communal dancing—sometimes referred to as “choreomania”—occurred in Europe with some frequency in Europe between the 14th and the 18th centuries.
|
125022
|
By dawn, she is ready to hunt.
|
125031
|
They’re coming now. Thousands of them. Black wings, antennas, spindly legs.
|
125055
|
The boy stared out his window, noting the suns slow and eventual passing behind the distant mountains. He saw his face reflected in the window pane and turned away. His shadow loomed…
|
125021
|
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.
|
125022
|
|
125042
|
In the end they talked a lot, shared what they could, both seemingly trying to rekindle something that was no longer hot, and yet they could not let go of each other. Year after year would prove that. Right then, just then, it seemed that the physical par
|
125074
|
Last night was full of little fists
|
125033
|
had I gotten home without knowing it? well . . .
|
125011
|
#ShortStory #writers
are failed #poets...
|
124930
|
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
|
124931
|
Every night she waited for that magical hour when her breath was quick and her heart was loud rushing in her ears 8:04 or sometime 8:20 either way she knew the voice she would hear of her beloved was coming any minute now and so she was…
|
124920
|
By the time she reached home, dinner would be there in thirty minutes, on the table. Not a lively table, just politeness, and calm. There were no issues of the day that needed discussing, no problems to be solved.
|
124932
|
Then, relieved to have cleared the air, they peacefully returned their way of living.
|
124944
|
the view is
breathtaking here.
|
124932
|
I spent the evening looking at our old pictures. /
We were never happy. I realize that now.
|
124912
|
I slept and it was pleasant. Then there was the kiss, and it was hot. Later you turned away, and all was November chill. Now there are touches, caresses and shouts, Marvelous nights flavored with favors bestowed, and blackened days,…
|
124920
|
Our ragged wits, ragged minds, after acting out all, imitating all honey-like tunes, air song, excellence of song, true flower of the world. So the sun has some of its honey wintered away, to bring it into contact with such a human voice as yours.
|
124900
|
It’s the Tea, stupid. Drink up.
|
124933
|
was entering into a new phase of its existence, a peculiar paradigm of the wider world where, presaged by science, economic and political ideologies were conspiring to displace the old verities of religion and aesthetics, but where…
|
124901
|
When the telephone rang the fallow fields we lay in years ago became distant countries, filled with falling stars. The distant country into which you had disappeared became a pistol with a single bullet in the chamber.
|
124922
|
...she did wish she lived somewhere in Ancient Rome, and from one of those seven hills, perhaps during sunset, she would resolve to roll down and meet the flaming orb just as it descended so she would dissolve into embers and ash...
|
124944
|
Charted stars by the dozens /
with a side of frizzle onions /
dawn showers us with glitter.
|
124920
|
"Already he is running and flying to the center of the world" - Mircea Eliade, about what a shaman is up to, under his mask.
|
124922
|
In frustration, he picked up a hammer and slammed it straight into the center of the mask.
|
124920
|
I barely scraped the sleep out of my eyes when I heard the shrill crying from outside the kitchen window, and I recalled one of the many reasons cats can't be trusted. You see, they're evolutionarily wired to imitate the sound of a crying human baby, so when they…
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