2231 33 20
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Somehow, random phrases and sentences from the stories, comments and profile pages were generated as “replies”.
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2231114
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After we have sex I slip cash into your purse, just a few bucks, without you knowing. You're not a whore, but I'd like to buy you lunch sometime without having to be there.
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2231154
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There’s things you can change in this world and things you can’t. We have to figure out which is which. Though I never was much good at it, I guess.
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2230187
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This is the only time she feels she can be herself.
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22292215
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There's a mutual recognition...
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22291211
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fun fact: a doll's legs will twitch
while being scalped
but only for just a little bit
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222953
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leave a trail of potential weapons dropped from your shaking hands. you must always make it easy for him to follow.
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222964
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Roy Orbison, Roy Orbison, Roy Orbison, Roy Orbison, Roy Orbison, Roy Orbison—right now that’s all I can say.
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222901
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I love Michigan. Michigan is my home. I love living in Michigan. There are so many things about Michigan that people don't know. People of the world don't know anything about Michigan. Our haiku festivals, quality cheeses, our love of skinny neckties and
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222900
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It's hard to say who was the first to point a finger towards the sky. Maybe it was the cherubic overall-clad toddler perched on the shoulders of his father's worn brown leather jacket. Maybe it was one of the teenaged girls, their long straight hair whipp
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2228196
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People disappeared in the 70's—young girls, teenagers, they always said they ran away. Nobody really believed that the next-door neighbor was capable of that kind of horror. These two girls disappeared and the police had been digging up the farm of t
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222611
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The Sentinels held up their weapons at the main door, preparing for a fight. Lori saw the look on the girl’s eyes, something she felt she should not see in them.
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2226173
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When you push my bra down, so it rests uncomfortably beneath my breasts—your teeth dragging pink trails across my throat and shoulders, pushing your thumb and forefinger into my panties—you don't say that you love me. You say, “Jesus shit. Relax, baby,…
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222563
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when the devil dies he divides enough evil for everybody
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22254426
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Del and I watched my brother toe his way to the edge of the cottonwood branch that arched over the reservoir.
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22251311
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Plastic Jesus wears a crown of thorns. I gesture and say: Does that hurt? He says: What do you mean? so I point at his forehead and his hand goes to it and he says O that
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222543
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Sergio is Brazilian and his English has zero inflection, so I don't know how to take this question. The possible meanings are innumerable, some of which are very dangerous...
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222541
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I've seen the pinch marks. It can't be worth it.
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22243621
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The young boy picks up a coin that has rolled to his feet. It is warm, too warm considering the cold air streaming around him.
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222342
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He (after learning of my former occupation as a record store owner): So, what is your favorite band of all time?
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222372
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I pass the Grief Benches on my way to work. No one is on them today. Last night I saw a couple there, him wet eyed and her with her head down. She scrunched her eyes tight as I passed and I remember thinking she was a fraud. It's alright if you don't want
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22213526
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On Friday nights I'm not there.
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222120
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I linger and pretend that I’m not there,
you find me in the end but I’ll not dare
to speak the words I only know to write.
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2221144
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I still walk into galleries. A shadow of my old self still walks into galleries. That old self was hungry to be wounded by the juxtaposition of color and form and texture and line and darkness and light. But I can no longer see art. I can…
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22211510
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If things continue to go bad for her she will become second wife in six years.
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22202626
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Hers is the kind of crazy that can't be masked. She's worn it on her sleeves since tenth grade.
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22201511
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She sets the muffins aside, opens herself, nymph-like, mouth spread and gritty. She pulls the dirty edge of his gray t-shirt up so to show herself to him, spreads herself across the mattress like thin flesh oil over too much canvas....
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222010
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221999
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Matilda went wild at sixty-five. Legs left unshaven for the first time in fifty years, hair still and proud, knotted with forgetting. She’d roam the streets at night, a traveler without design. Matilda was a gardener of sorts, digging up all previous assu
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221975
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When they were seven, he’d taken them out to the desert and let them shoot a .38 at rusted cans. The explosions rocked them back on their heels.
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