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[YOU BETTER BE READY FOR THIS!]
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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,…
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Tucker walked the long and lonely stretch of highway in front of him. The loneliness didn't matter; he had his own way of handling that feeling. The walking, however, was wearing away at his mind. How…
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This will take forever. I’ll never get to Antibes to meet Isabella, much less make it to Marseille to deliver the picture and then catch the overnight train to Paris. I may have to call Jean-Claude Lyon, the orchestra manager of the Monte Carlo orchestra,
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This world is always at least as strange as it seems, but usually far more strange, so many non-repeatable phenomena . . . .
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Urban skunks want to visit your neighborhood and be bold in your neighborhood.
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Next morning the thought crosses my mind of snapping Mom’s neck, making sure she’s dead, and then running down to the sea to drown myself.
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Every year I make New Year's resolutions and every year I break them. So this year, I'm trying something different -- resolutions for other people. Hey world -- here are the changes I'd like to see YOU make in 2014(1) Cell phone owners: No more blathering on your cell in…
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and still every time I walked up there - so it can't be the cycling - I was nervous I would do it wrong
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Our lives are lived backward in memory...
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The lace fell through the fingers, wrinkled and nimble they had become too used to avoiding the finite objects in life which needed attention. The white cotton sat loosely on her shoulders, the collar exposed the skin which had become dry and her shoulder
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Me leaving is not the confirmation of all your fears. It is not. It's because of them.
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We walk with our heads down, maybe 15 of us, moving under a sun that has grown to encompass everything. Everything is in hues of orange and red like a bloody eyeball on fire.
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The blue of the sky pierced her heart. She patted her lips with her tongue and turned to him. “We have to talk.”
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There’s an account of roasting inward, holding myself like a rock inflamed, my inward joy rotting my veins. How was I supposed to go on loving anything after you? Like a pigeon hated at home, awaiting your passionate kisses? Knowing how your classical k
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I guess you felt more comfortable holding your Moby Dick
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Vikki respond, "Say big guy, you eat pussy?"
The Mohawk flustered.
"Uh!?...Yeah...sure."
Vikki snickered, "Great. We got something in common. So do I."
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To assist you in recalling some of Episode One of - "A Poem by Jasmine Coriander-Semolina": My head lifted up slowly as I looked up through a gaussian blur of fragrant incense smoke and saw she was crying. She whispered that her daughter, Pastina, was last…
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I'm the first child she ever knew that couldn't sing.
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If I had slept a little longer, I/
would not have seen this rarity at all.
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She excelled at plowing forward. He excelled at staying in one place. Eventually the distances got too great and she put an ocean between them.
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I felt my words reach out and try to grab him by the heart. They missed.
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I remembered because the man took us to see the horses. I didn't see something that set off a series of memories. I only saw the stables and the moon sitting pensively below the firmament. I looked at these and there was spaciousness between the moon and the stables and…
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And the urban sprawl doesn’t hesitate. All around me, I taste the aftermath of bricks, dust and dirt, freshly laid concrete slabs.
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Let your father stay
through that dinner
when his mistress needed him,
while your mother was on the verge.
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Why go outside where the gutters /
are fraudulent and clogged with popularity?
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