1811 2 1
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Jimmy Gollihue awoke to the howling of a bloodhound ...
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1811 2 1
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“Cheng Ho didn’t go just Cape Horn; treasure ships visit Australia and America. His very advanced compass. Not just point north-south. Show east-west too.”
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1811 15 7
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On Monday I cook coq au vin. Fatty yellow skin detached and floating in the sauce.
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1811 16 11
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Their breath stank inside my lungs and tamped down the very minute amount of remorse I had left. It was replaced with contempt. Their fear warmed my cold sensibility as I steeled myself.
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1811 5 3
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They met on a bus. The bus got lost. He had corn chips. She had a tuna sandwich. They shared. “This is good,” he said. “Did you make this?” …
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1810 26 19
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For my father, my best buddy.
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1810 12 11
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I learned to love what we had: the long, bright days, the water all around us, and even their slithery bodies, which somehow never dried under the pounding sun.
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1809 1 0
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“People are staring at us,” Cat said softly into Marcel’s ear.
“We look like an interesting couple,” Marcel replied. “Of course people want to look at us.”
Cat nibbled on that thought for a while.
New York City is the kind of place where people ra
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1808 8 5
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Sometimes you have to make sacrifices to get where you need to be.
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1808 13 9
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It is Cary's favorite time of day. School is finished and he is alone, outside his home; and that is the way Cary likes it. Buffalo Bill is having a grand time today! In one corner of the backyard where the grass is bare, Cary is leading the little plastic Bill to…
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1808 5 3
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There are times when I run out of places to sleep. I thought my whole life that god gave up on me. The newspaper bin is where I go when I'm desperate. In the center of town there's a large bin for recycling newspapers behind…
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1808 7 3
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We walk in silence. We water our plants. We don’t eat as well as we should. We try to love. We try to forget.
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1808 0 1
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IN THE QUIET TIME Forgiveness and forgetfulness are words I sometimes think have worth to just the dead; Though envy creeps, I grudge no man's rewards: There lie no guilt-edged thoughts against my head. The funeral march bears off, away from mind, The petty…
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1808 2 0
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Robert was not in any sort of metaphysical or spiritual sense seeing himself, as in the scales falling from his eyes and seeing himself as he was. He was a long way from that kind of insight. He was literally seeing another himself.
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1807 24 23
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That evening I sat and watched the sunset. The color of the water changed from blue to black. The sky turned from pink to star-spangled ebony. There was no moon.
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1807 10 8
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"good luck, and be assured acceptance for representation or publication is based on different criteria at different agencies and we are sure you will yet find someone mentally deficient enough to give your book a shot."
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1807 5 3
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Show me where to go, he said out of defiance for the moment in which time was malleable and fat minutes were consumed by wayward, languid hours. And all I could do for the time being was sit there excruciatingly anxious for this to pass, so it…
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1806 39 14
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The so-called good, a weak but whiny lot, who actually clung to that abstract of "justice for all," would tattle to Mrs. Pufry...Mzzz Puffy, she hit me...Mzzz Puffy he said the bad word...Mzzz Puffy, I gotta go...Mzzz Puffy, Thomas is hanging in the cloak
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1805 28 22
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The fluffed-up clouds, darkish in spots,/
are moving fast, opposite the wind/
where I stand and look. Equations//
could describe the multiplicities
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1805 3 1
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Hipster-neutral dressed simulacra-person offers a glance and a wave, sudden as a ping-pong serve, designed to crowd your space and "pal" you but I dodge it — I'm practiced at this.
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1805 23 13
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She stepped out of her panties. She spread her arms wide. "Take me!" she sang.
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1805 4 2
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You like your life. Ducks march in a row. You've reached a certain age but you're strong. Healthy. You've got food, clothing, shelter. You have insurance and important papers. You don't have a man in your life, and you admit— Admit nothing. The…
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1804 15 11
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When we're near, there is a black cloud, such as Sylvia Plath described in her unabridged journal, that semi-appeared in her rental cottage where she and Ted Hughes lived in Cornwall. The cloud filled the center of the room where she sat alone.
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1804 3 3
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Describe how like or unlike a vagina a peach pit is, using no anatomical words.
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1804 12 5
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“How much is stuff worth? Stuff man! Bling! Cargo! STUFF! What's it worth to you? It ain't worth a shit, man! Clean clothes! Comfortable shoes! A ride! Those things are important! But they’re only stuff.
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1804 10 5
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I scare my daughter when she sleeps because she thinks I'm going to kill her.
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1803 26 15
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wear that short skirt and those high-heeled boots
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1803 24 22
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Last summer our marriage took a direct hit and crashed into a deep pit with little warning when Millicent met a Facebook man and simply left, taking up with him, presenting him with my space in her life to receive her touch and this thought perpetually gnaws away, making me…
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1803 30 22
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I wake up in the morning and write her name on the white paper napkin I always place in front of me at the kitchen table as I have my first cup of coffee. I write it throughout the day. Twelve or fifteen times. I've done this for exactly twenty-three days. I always…
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1803 10 6
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Maybe we all met, somewhere, in between streets.
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