1137 2 1
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I try to slot into order the sequence of events: the book deal that appeared and then winked away like a dying star, the white gloves and the brick through Waterstone's window; my novel lying in the shop front in a bed of glass.
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113710
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nope. no excerpt for you.
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113740
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Henry Katz sat on his couch. He was reading a book. He guessed it was a novel, but he had to keep looking at the cover to remind himself what it was.
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113743
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Once again, I start the engine.
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113700
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113720
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Sounds like something a woman would do.
—You think so? said Ben. What woman would do that to me? I don’t know any women in Nice.
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113731
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Crunching gravel beneath my feet, the sound of approaching death.
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113764
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a war forever seems so sadly stupid, pretty petty on our perky part in the ongoing play, a terrible loosed thing to have to always keep holding up our hostage hands to-- at least when being compared to…
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113722
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Spilled milk it is --lactate of common desire;water under the bridge, slow-moving, white. So this is what we feed on: the past and present here for the licking.Sweat is water too,for the hungry, and any past will do. Parched mouths kiss just as well as…
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113720
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There was a bucket of shit . . .
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113700
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He marvelled at himself. How his decision and the consequential action, could free him up, make him almost jolly, almost well. He didn't give a fig for his lack of money and inability to pay his rent, he didn't care anymore that he was no longer inspired
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113765
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to the back of your mind like a box of unpacked yet beloved books if you want, but that's no life I want to explore any further with you. We don't have as much time as we once thought, to believe in something other than empty bottles lost in the…
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113600
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The sun was bright, warm and blew through my hair like the wind.
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113630
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Deciding what is important from the life of a man that you haven't spoken to in ten years was a task that had seemed impossible at the outset. But now, here she stood, having done just that.
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113644
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I rang the doorbell. Claire opened the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I opened my arms to give her a big hug. She stiffened and pulled away. Stunned, my lips parted, but I couldn’t think of a single word to say.
Ideal, Phillis. ”Broken”, Pure
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11362411
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I remembered our wedding reception. I tasted the crab cake, pulled her from greeting people, said, you have to try. And she did.
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113621
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“Did you check Snopes? I always check Snopes when I hear something stupid like that.” “I most certainly did not check Snopes. And it's not stupid. It's an established fact.” “Really? Cause once I heard about that kid from that old…
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113600
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The smell of your chest, and the taste of your lips
as they touch mine
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113696
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Through feeling her life story,
I understood mine, more,
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113600
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I think I have experienced this before: This fractal sigh upon the star-scarped floor, That makes this concrete mock of valley heath- Below the traffic lanterns at the door, Of frigid other flowers lovers ‘queath None but their eyes to.…
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113653
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You shall hear, against your ear,
the beating of a circumcised heart.
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113611
|
Could I cache your kisses?
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113600
|
day1
I've been fucked. I've been fucked. I'm supposed to behave now and say all these things I don’t really want to say. I've been fixed in spot. I have been turned into a broken record, or no even worse, a broken record case. I've become a parody, a p
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113623
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A nice girl is like powder, quick to anger, fresh, impudent, too quick to know what expletives fate speaks. It was a cold year for trash talk and sheer silk. And yes, the fox was smoking, who could attract or irritate a nice girl with the same look, a wom
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113600
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The yellowed and peeling posters of men and women with grotesque disfigurements under the slogan, “Know Your Criminals!” that peered down at him from the walls were a familiar sight. Everyone knew that people with faces like that were as monstrous as they looked…
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113600
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Will you leave me, you, the one?
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113632
|
Here’s the local group of grumpy gray-haired men
Chewing over politics as if it’s important
As if their endless discussing of it,
Waving their hands in the air, gesturing,
Is going to change the world
How do these guys stop from having heart a
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113644
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you're landscape
under her flight path, brother
one dash in a dotted line
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113600
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She reached out her arms and spoke to the moon, "I ran from my fears, from loving too soon." She gazed at the heavens and cried to the stars, "I could not promise him all of my heart." She wiped away her tears and laughed at the trees, "Not a soul on this earth would…
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113642
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Maria Monsanto, the curator of Francesco Martinelli's Atmospheres show, stood in the middle of the third-floor gallery.
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