1253 1 0
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The little girl picked up the toy phone. "Who is this please?" she said, mimicking what she'd heard her mother say many times before. "Snoopy," came the voice.
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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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Carla woke up from her hospital bed screaming.
"Somebody please help me. Please save me. I am begging you."
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Friday afternoon. Angelique Brody knocked Francesco’s studio door.
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My first year I hated how big and unruly the plants got.
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I know from the experience of too many odd sideways glances that folks are seldom interested in my brand of observation. No one else seems to wonder how many commas there are in the library or how many other people own that exact shirt.
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the view is
breathtaking here.
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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.
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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.
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We’re on The Worm. I dread the part where the train goes under the bay. I hold my breath until we safely emerge.
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By dawn, she is ready to hunt.
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I guess it was, you know, a daze thing: He, lightly drunk, turning red in parts of his head, in his cheeks mostly, and his chest, to which my eyes were drawn because of his v-neck douchebag shirt; and I, sleepy beyond belief, sustained like a zombie only
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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…
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1252 8 7
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Orchids strewn over the floor...
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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.
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In the zone of forgotten things, everything moves through a weak gravitational field
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Charted stars by the dozens /
with a side of frizzle onions /
dawn showers us with glitter.
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1252 9 2
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i think god composed afternoons with crayons
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1251 2 1
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When she would leave my pillows still smelled like her. I would just inhale her for hours afterwards, sex and honeysuckles.
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1251 2 0
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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.
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1251 3 2
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Then, relieved to have cleared the air, they peacefully returned their way of living.
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1251 1 1
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It was in his teeth. A blackness, a subscription to an outsideness, a painful contraction of burnt out trees scattered there among sand drifts and tidal debris. His face, lightly weathered and troubled, a tightness built into eyes of thought and separation. His arms, strong…
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1251 11 1
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I imagined cool, wet clay oozing between my fingers when I'd squeeze a tight fistful.
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1251 3 1
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He's gonna find he wasn't born lucky after all, his propaganda has got up on the wrong side of the bed and sidled onto the couch.
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1251 1 2
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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,…
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this is your hair, this is your stare, this is your voice
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What’s your favorite emotion? Mine is ripping the sky apart and standing on a star outside of time.
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It's not a funeral. Nobody to mourn over.
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