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Ian Markham stood before the massive triangular window of Circularity's pyramidal office building. Its Technicolor hologram, a coup in advertising sloganeering, urgently flashed the company's ubiquitous tagline—IT'S NOT JUST AN ADVENTURE. IT'S A SECOND CHANCE! …
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we all want to go down / because nothing north can be good.
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They giggled at me when they thought I was asleep, giggled at the size of my balls, which had never been a problem before her. Said it was because of my tiny balls that we only had two children.
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On the Rocks What matters these, to all, below the crest… If privilege of mind-blankness is the bay's? Remembrance breeds no fathoms of its rest- As plumb the circuit lulled, at each rephrase Of capture,…
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The lead man, who did not seem to be the most important or distinguished, just the one walking in line before all of the others, knocked twice on the door and opened it quickly. He stepped gingerly through the doorway and the others filed gloomily in afte
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Love is always going to be all even when all else is
floating to the burning ground.
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We watched kids tweeze snapping turtles out of the park grass. They dropped them into a styrophoam cup and called it the snap turtle home. When they grow up they will bite your arms off, their father said laughing.
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She said this is our abode and it sounded like a warble and she made a sweeping gesture with her arm and the boy started to cry.
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Say the word and I shall become
a photograph;
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You can't always get what you want, and fortunately, that's sometimes a good thing.
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My eyes became purple, and boys called them "picture windows". Well, not boys, exactly, but one girl did. Junie.
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Tell me your hero and I'll tell you what's cooking with you...
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That’s how I’d met him really: drinking games. We’d both been at the local watering hole, challenging the other patrons to drunken games of chance and making a clean sweep of it. A few guys figured themselves for alpha dogs had Teqs cornered after he’d ta
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You want L.A.? I’ll give you L.A. Land of the perpetual one-night stand. Land of the Leslies and the Sweets lying around all day in their bed just around the corner from this convent across the street from my apartment that took in the pregnant and the lo
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spreading gilded pages with a tlickt
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“This is the most dangerous road in the world and you want to drive down it. You crazy,” he said.
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She's a nurse, plugging leaks, postponing via triage. I'm an engineer, watching essential systems shut down as my body buys extra minutes.
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Later I take his hand, and I lead him up the stairs. I want to show him something, I say.
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Figures are a strip tease.
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It's July, which, if you work in a public library, means that the Summer Reading Club is in full swing. The SRC used to be just for kids, to motivate them to read when school wasn't in session. But in recent years many libraries have expanded the program to include…
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“We wouldn't mock the recent Tornado victims, right? Why mock the mentally ill?” Jennifer Donnell, Fictionaut Member. The mentally ill are close to my heart, having helped the most severely impaired adults and…
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But I do not dig graves, only cradles...
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Yet it was another thing to grow to become indispensable to someone without whose infirmities the helper could not exist. People in general had started to call that helpless requiring “codependency,” but to Althea that word did no good,
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Driving home at midnight, on a night so dark, so wild. Headlights can't pierce the gateway to oblivion.
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--------------------------------------------
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He gathers our abusive fathers, our esophageal tears, our peanut fetuses.
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We borrow a flag from a neighbor. It’s sitting on top of the TV in the den. We haven’t figured out where to display it yet.
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She comes and goes,gingerly at times, or, caution tossed,a headlong rushof foam and froth.No matter, I am steadfast,keen to be immersed once morein her salty splendor.
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