1282 3 1
|
This was not a good sign, comforting gestures from strangers were bad omens.
|
128276
|
They wink at me as if to share/
a cosmic joke whose punch line’s still/
a couple dozen light years out
|
128255
|
The man who will lead you can be nothing
if not already found underneath the
light-heartedness of heaven, (dawn)
if not under the light-heartedness
of snow.
He would have to have happiness
already sewn into his soul.
He bears no burdens
|
128231
|
"The food tastes kind of...off."
|
128200
|
The Gringovitch family was gathered in the lobby of the hotel. The boys sat on the floor using their packs as back supports. Francesca Gringovitch sat on a chair with the remaining luggage in front of her.
|
128274
|
|
128211
|
Jack Krackenthorpe, Director-General of MI-5, sat alone drinking tea in Lee Ho Fook, a third-rate Chinese restaurant in Soho a mile from his Curzon Street office.
|
1282148
|
The diner on the corner is one of those Disneyfied modern cut-outs trying to mimic the actual thing but failing utterly. The street, a vein of hipness running through an Ivy League campus that is still trying to cling to a time when it all meant something
|
128200
|
Watching the surroundings, the school proceeded on with no threat in sight. The Circle of Four entered inside Azure’s classroom where she sat next to a window.
|
128297
|
I COULD always sleep. Go "home" now and sleep. My body and my fetus—who complain of this torture—would appreciate sleep. I have something to do that is not sleep. I have something to do that is not sleep. I have to try to wake.
|
128199
|
Although I'm twenty years older than her, my girlfriend has called me "jailbait" for the past year and a half because she says the only way to stop having to share me is to kill my wife..
|
128120
|
He once owned a dog named Bark. As a kid, he was kicked out of the Boy Scouts of America. His childhood nickname was “Sleepy.” When he was little, and alone, he used to sing songs to God. When he joined Second City in 1973, the troupe was…
|
128187
|
|
128120
|
As we follow the trail and things snap beneath our feet, I tell myself that the snapped things take pleasure, find purpose even, in the sounds they make with my soles.
|
128100
|
Their laughter is of a tiny world that knows nothing of taxes or lost loves, or news reports of flag-draped coffins filled with limbs.
|
128165
|
I texted a wickety-split, tax-declaring New York-based international escort, a moonlighting, all-pro Kit, whose day job on Wall Street yields no bonus.
|
128122
|
“Miss Brown had spent the morning (was it just this morning? Or another?) purchasing parsnips and leafy green vegetables from the local grocers, when she was overcome by a wave of nausea. The world went black and she awoke in a windowless, doorless room.
|
128143
|
And her life runs like clockwork. And the kids wouldn’t get to school without her, and the paychecks wouldn’t arrive and the taxes wouldn’t get paid. And she listens to religion and country and God telling her how to run her life, what to do and when. B
|
128140
|
He almost died, but hasn’t been this much alive ever.
|
128165
|
You don’t want to tango with me, she said.
|
128141
|
We call this game the end of the world...
|
128122
|
Let your father stay
through that dinner
when his mistress needed him,
while your mother was on the verge.
|
1281199
|
A bedridden ward of the state,/
warehoused in a nursing home,/
unable to drive to the liquor store/
for whiskey and cigarettes,
|
128100
|
It's not actually about blow jobs, sex, or coitus of any kind. You probably won't like it.
|
128051
|
Samson was also somewhat in hopes that his son Jason would become engaged in this minor capitalist enterprise and 'turned around' in his life.
|
128042
|
He saw in her something fierce and wild
and gently led her to
his open palm...
|
128096
|
" No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and messed up his life for nothing."--T.S. EliotI think, okay now I know, the poem's starting to wear off. But I'm alive, at least…
|
128021
|
Every spring, outside on the back deck, my mother and I have the same talk about how time flies, and she always waves her hand in the air as if swatting at a fly, but there's never anything there. She thinks the lilies will live all summer spread like a rainbow,…
|
128063
|
We call it the alley of the shadows, the low sunless concavity of earth between the stalks, the acrid scent of the ripened arrow-points.
|
128072
|
"The tundra was as cold and barren as Mother Theresa's womb."
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