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Then there was Marsha, the blonde bombshell, at Irvine, who slept over one night only. As in the original one night stand, your standard L.A. blonde beach-girl bombshell ex-cheerleader tear your heart out and spit it as far as she could. Wrench your bal
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117533
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That son of a bitch meant every word. Every filthy mouthful of insults that hit me was intentional and focused.
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117510
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In suburban Jeddah magnificent houses on every corner of the avenues are surrounded by high walls rising up from just inside the roadside curb to much beyond taller than a man.
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117541
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He puts the briefcase on the sand and removes a pistol.
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117551
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I remember Freddie K bringing these fat Thai joints back with him from Viet Nam, and just one of those things would get us all so stoned at parties in Jolene’s upstairs apartment that we felt as if we could float down the long flight of stairs like we w
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117510
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“He’s a tough nut,” says CIA officer Marlon McGrath. “He says he’ll die a martyr rather than crack before we get to the Booster Club award for outstanding female athlete.”
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117521
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“You’re just like me,” she said, as dawn was breaking. “You like sex.”
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117576
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117575
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The two boys walked the long dock to the edge of bay,like scrappy lobsters pointing toward the waves,"The cockroaches of the sea,"his father said,It was the old country"Only prisoners were fed lobster.They stayed in the dampholes."He thought the sea ebbed and flowed like a…
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117520
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I will watch your teeth measure the highway all the way home.
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117532
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http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/articles/2011/07/17/imagine_mimes_as_the_mbta_noise_police/
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117577
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Times were tough. They met out on the right-of-way on Highway 61 heading south, each trying to hitch a ride to New Orleans where they might find work. Albert walked up to her lugging a saxophone in a scuffed up case. Mamie had old cloth suitcase. After handshake bona fides…
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117542
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Below them, the clag shears open in irregular patches, the lights of Seattle resolving themselves through the thinning overcast then vanishing again by turns.
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117420
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Terry marked each spot where we did it with a red “X” on this map she had taken from my dad's gas station. In those days gas stations gave out maps for free.
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117432
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My memory is like tracks in the snow. My memory is cookie dough. My memory is dirty tube socks.
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1174139
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Our local low rent ice-based superhero said he’d had enough and would check back in early spring.
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117400
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I’ve really had it up to here
with people who say “awesome”
of things that don’t inspire awe.
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117412
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Do you know if you were actually speaking to me there?
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117431
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Where does the foam from the lattes go?
I'm not being flip--I want to know.
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117400
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This is what you have to do to keep the unruly parts of your brain from open revolt.
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117420
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Still worried. I could use some more hope in my oatmeal.
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117453
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Cockroaches may be falling through the holes
in the floorboards of heaven, but we will not be disturbed.
We are agents, free and clear, even if a little bit mean.
I want to quit worrying about money,
but the angels upstairs won’t let me.
The
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117410
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Someone had scrawled her on the walls.
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117421
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“Are you comparing the communists with Hitler?”
“Are you telling me there is no comparison?"
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1174105
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"All he wants to do is watch the Hallmark Channel"
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117400
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I'm feeling almost better than you know A little bit better than the day before Waking up to a deafening scream Please, please don't hurt me no more Why do I feel like a lost dog? Staring outside the window pane How come I become dark? When the clouds begin to rain…
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117442
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You don't see the bruises ... you can't foresee the pain. It's intense, so deep and yet so volatile, in vain. He slapped my head once more while he uttered for the millionth time the same old words again: "You're a loser and you'll never win. I hate for you to be my…
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117433
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Father, trouble me memory;laconic, idle, some glint on the dark. Recall us to me: what did we have, or what did we lose? Like some late affection, open me again, laugh it out of us. It is not loss I'm looking toput back together, papered over…
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117443
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117422
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My chin is half-eaten. My chest is gone. There is a rhythm to how each flame licks me. Like how you used to in the mornings before work. Before the coffee. Before the toaster. Before a rose clenched between your teeth and dancing.
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