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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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Thin slices of ruby tomato, red onion, and green peppers joined the bacchanal, wilting in the bliss of chile and cilantro raining down on them.
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I've done the math, it didn't count. All the days and years of endless boredom. Of waiting for the next best thing, trapped inside your mind like a lifetime prison sentence. Maybe one day we'll be free, maybe one day we won't feel so oppressed. But when does that day…
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My first time alone with the women in Saudi Arabia...
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He stood with the bride of quietness / on the precipice of questions
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Précis Summer. Far from beautiful Prague, with its buzzing nightlife and pulsating, noisy crowds; away from the stamp, sway and spin, the odour of bodies, beer and cheap perfume; from the opulence and grandiose beauty, we sleep…
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Frank met Angelique Brody on the street in front of his building.
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Millicent asked me to stop over at her place for coffee after work because we needed to talk. While pouring, she said she was torn about telling me what her father used to do to her when her mom was not around, but she thought I needed to know how twisted her life was…
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we hover black as carrion birds with a glut empty need seems to me she's fell as thee and knows exactly where we posture anxiously spitting falsehoods on cue twittering like snipes cause there's nothing left to do she might have spent her whole life just
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From words to meaning― how complicated it is.
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I call upon all cashiers in dungarees...
I call upon the baristas in rags...
I call upon those whose
sinister principles tax the weakness of their conscience...
I call upon all those deracinated by dreaming big...
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We were careful not to wake the kids & goodbye with a handshake & my skeleton is trapped with your universe inside.
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That is a six-word story. Notice that the meaning does not change with the word count. Syllabic count: pentameter (ten). Keep these commas.
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He adopts a stance known as Part the Wild Horse’s Mane but calls it a different name--the Part the Hair of the Skanky Barmaid for a Bleachjob position.
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An hour later, we're no closer to the tunnel. In our rental car, we're just two in a school of a thousand fish skimming the edge of the island. Go with the flow, we keep saying to each other. We're just going with the flow. …
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Billy Joel wants to hold my hand.
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Her friend had been drunk, and sometimes after two or three quarts of beer, he'd tell people that he was Jewish.
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Beyond the parrots and the palms, she can see an airplane resting in the canyon below, belly up, wings like outstretched arms, the occupants inside presumably rotting in their seats.
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At the annual Earth Day celebration, Frieda looked up in the sky and saw a lone goose. It had caught her attention with its call, echoing off the buildings and trees.
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“We have flown the air like birds and swum the sea like fishes, but have yet to learn the simple act of walking the earth like brothers.”
― Martin Luther King Jr.
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The flowerpots across the street from Frank’s room at the Place d’Armes Hotel never appeared parched by the late August sun.
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I believe I will become a bear, snuggle up in a deep cave, coil myself inside my fur, close my eyes on hurting images, turn a deaf ear to the uproar of the world. Bolt my door to the deceiving voices outside. Sleep. Forget. Wait, as we wait for spring, for the violet and…
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Two girls, twelve years old, run down San Pedro Avenue past the market, the middle school, seven driveways, their small chests heaving. The smooth soles of their Mary Janes keep slipping on the gravel driveways. Two men in a rust-orange van bear…
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"A Social Worker develops programs to help feed the poor," she had said, "and makes sure there's a chicken in every pot. A Counselor asks them how they feel about getting the chicken. And a Therapist diagnoses and treats them when they start hearing
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4. If you wear size 13, you'll trip a lot.
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I imaged him at his mother's house, eating chicken and tabouli with her at her round marble table, leaning back and laughing, then reading my “love you” and excusing himself to cry in the bathroom.
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There’s something Dad’s been telling us
that I don’t think is true
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Perhaps she’s also a do-gooder. One of those socially conscious, change-the-world type girls complete with a never ending supply of life’s own contagious enthusiasm.
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