1339 4 4
|
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…
|
133900
|
He ordered a palace built, and the builders came to blows, which is why the father’s eyes have swollen shut, and the oldest son’s knuckles are bright plums.
|
133911
|
A man in Watchupecka, OH, was charged Wednesday night with drunken driving in heavy traffic in downtown Watchupecka when he failed to stop for a red light.
|
133854
|
Suddenly, the room was filled with a screaming vortex directed at a pinpoint in the corner. Timmy's bureau was gone and everything loose in the room was flying towards the spot it had occupied. Timmy stood up in horror. He tried to seal this rent by tossi
|
133800
|
For so long as I think I shall live.
|
133843
|
Man, this bearskin rug was a big, awkward sonofabitch on his back....
|
133800
|
Inspired by "The Dunwich Horror"" by H.P. Lovecraft, this excerpt concerns the events in the life of a man who is coming to the awareness that his son has followed in his grandfather's steps and begun the process of conjuring a spirit that killed him.
|
133884
|
He thought of it as magic, but magic that he understood, the way a magician knows about the hidden compartments in his hat and trunks.
|
133877
|
The arithmetic of human experience/
is always a losing game for some. Poor Jane. Rich Dick.
|
133852
|
“My name is Violet,” I add. I am trying to stop lying. Going without cigarettes has been easier.
|
133853
|
I build pedestals.It's hard workHeld together by sweat, love, and lofty thoughts - an unsound foundation.The tiniest bit of heartbreak,and it comes crashing down. Always, I blame the builder and not the vandal. The next one will be…
|
133800
|
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
|
133832
|
Lying in the blissful glow of young television.
Idly sleeping, eyes open and ears closed.
|
133832
|
|
133764
|
It's not stories the quiet lack, but inclination...
|
133787
|
arrogant, sullen,/
supple and ambiguous,//
English seems the ideal tongue
|
133756
|
|
133754
|
I am trying very hard to rhyme,
and trying very hard not to.
|
133700
|
this is your hair, this is your stare, this is your voice
|
133721
|
In college, I made friends with my Jewish roommate. Her name was Leah and she was from Brooklyn. When she asked me home with her for Thanksgiving, she mentioned we could go to synagogue together. I asked if there would be other black people there. "No," Leah…
|
133710
|
machine utility of thought,
intangible aesthetic of sentiment.
|
133721
|
I go with the wind, like the smoke of this Marlboro red as it dances among the palm trees.
|
133772
|
She pulled the book off its shelf. It meant something else now. He'd quote her in the mirror, at the backs of buses that kept her moving, something she'd said without saying. He would remember for them. She'd forget, without him, the way she wanted. Garland and lights were…
|
133765
|
Posit butterflies/
as evidence of heavenly design.
|
133752
|
I’m up to my ass in social media.
|
133731
|
This is a very impromptu piece written at two in the morning based on a prompt from Meg Pokrass, who insisted the following words be used: fussyhairybloomingslipperyflutterdamppaleweedsyanking “Maxfuss” was his password, which was appropriate,…
|
133742
|
—Man, what a tearjerker way to end an interview, said Ben.
|
133760
|
Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my phone?Where the fuck are my keys?Where the hell is my…
|
133700
|
I hate buying shirts. There's no point. You need a shirt, you go to the library.
|
133700
|
Famus Peepul Ellen and her boy, Larson, were on the second floor of The Monsters restaurant, searching for the fortuneteller. Larson had decided her signature was a necessary addition to his autograph book. He hadn't asked for her autograph…
|
