1367 7 4
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Night LifeThen things started getting weird. I could give you a time frame but it was back when times didn't matter really, one hour as good as the next and the minutes used to be minutes not the digital counting that makes this crazy world now spin. Here was…
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1367 3 3
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“C'mon Billy, don't be s-s-s-s-scared.' said the voice coming from under the bed. Billy looked over the side and saw a pale white, bony right hand with it's forefinger beckoning him protruding out from below. The nails were yellowed and cracked. And long. Very, very…
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1367 4 4
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The Managers are always to be found in twos or threes, lumbering greyly.——If you pass the Managers in a corridor it's a good idea to say hello. They will probably return your greeting, as best they can.——The Managers conduct meetings. They sit at the…
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1367 0 0
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I watched as you tried to fit yourself quite awkwardly into the small chair. Your eyes fluttered curiously around my house, and I smiled to myself. Your vision landed on my smile, and your face wore an expression of puzzlement."What are you smiling at?" you asked, your…
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1367 1 0
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i could smell it,
my scalp split on
that same damn nail,
i hammered down 20 times,
it kept coming loose
that warped floorboard
i never should have tacked in
when i built this house.
it always squeaked
at the base of the stairs
when i snuck
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1367 2 2
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mind heart soul will blood sweat tears muscle, and bone,/and then always something else—not more, just else . . .
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1367 0 0
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I’d like to say we didn’t remember the Alamo, but one of ours had to piss. We ran into youknowwho and he was fighting Mexicans and it was so beautiful and there were fireworks, or else it was God’s wrath, or else it was the sky now.
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1366 7 5
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and springs its ready-made claws into action and takes a soppy chance that things will probably go its feline way today. But you, my friend, must you always throw the testing switch to high voltage on me? Yeah I get that the history teachers…
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1366 0 0
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Oryn led Ragnorak to a window. It was darkened in the corners with only a red light over the Nocturne.
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1366 7 6
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The green on your shoulder Is worth all their papery property taxes And then some. They cash in every friendship As if it were nothing more than a Ripened apple for pie. Get rid of The thing before it begins to Rot into some…
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1366 9 8
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I used to be so certain
about right and wrong.
About choices and their consequences.
About heaven and hell
and how there was
no room in between
no space in between
no point in between
(take that point how you will)
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1366 3 0
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I might have avoided all of this trouble if. . .
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1366 0 0
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“Paroxysms, well, what in the hell’s a paroxysm?”
“I think the better question is what kind of name is Gentry, Gentry?”
“Yes, that’s a better question. Do you really want to know? I was named after my grandfather, Ol’ Gentry Jones Filips III. They
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1366 2 3
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I even listen to the Ugly Kid Joe version. I fall asleep perplexed and disheartened.
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1366 0 0
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My toes curled together under the pathetic rag of a bedsheet, the frost creeping in through the two-inch deformity of the window on the left wall. I was tempted to sneak a glance at them to insure that they weren't black, but then decided that I'd…
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1366 0 0
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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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1366 1 1
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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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1366 9 5
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an artist sits in the sun
moving fingers through long hair
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1366 2 0
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It's definitely not her pretty face that made him smile so quirkily when she returned in the evening.
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1366 7 5
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The old neighborhood, long paling in the shadow of greater Los Angeles, was reduced to two blocks in length and occupied only one side of Figueroa. It was the crumbling bastian of homes whose architecture remembered yet street-car bells clanging, watermelon farms and…
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1366 9 8
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with peaty aromatics, opened,/
and a welcomed sting, swallowed,
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1366 3 1
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“The moon is a monk,”
you said.
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1366 1 1
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#ShortStory #writers
are failed #poets...
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1365 9 6
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On a Saturday I flew from murky air. My wings grown weak, I stole away from plundered nest, casual stings, and skillful barbs. In family's fold, I perch.
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1365 0 0
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So, before he could brew with the crew, God decided to make one last trip to Earth, drawn by nostalgia and the prospect of watching a football World Cup from the stands. That is where He met Mini.
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1365 1 1
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I scrambled back a bit and found my feet after untangling them from my trekking poles. Really should have dropped those when this all started. The bear lunged at me with his teeth and I just barely dodged to the left to avoid getting something bitten of
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1365 5 5
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The redwood trees were taller than dreams
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1365 0 0
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White, hot pain shot runs from her through the wires, ending at the laptop, leaving a background buzz in her head.
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1365 2 2
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Professor Immanuel Danda finished his Ph.D. at 21, which, according to most of his friends and a few of his enemies, makes him a genius, though, personally, he always found himself to be a scruffy loser, if one were to believe, above all else, the mirror
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1365 5 5
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right/rite:
Your touch smooth as impulse/
Swaying my mind
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