135 5 4
|
This is not about you Although you are stone cold and sexy
|
13473
|
I will never waste my sick time on my own sicknesses unless I am in a coma.
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13454
|
He gets her voicemail.
Maureen calls back.
“Where are you, Tom? I hear cars.”
Where is he? Here he is. Cars, yes, and sidewalk, stores, faces topping bodies. Night again. A bad place. He sees a park – an empty set of swings and troughs of
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13462
|
Who better to return to at the end of the day? Can't wait to get home. Empty my pockets and wash my hands. Who better to lift a glass at the start of dinner? …
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133176
|
|
132188
|
Dinosaurs, a little boy, a hapless mother and mortality.
|
131107
|
Molly was a fanatical Flash Fictioneer, devoted to her miniature art form, the bonsai of literature, the tiny tales popularly known as flash fiction. She filled an entire blog with daily entries of the stuff. She came to flash…
|
13154
|
it rained so hard it flooded our tent and our sleeping bags were floating
|
13161
|
I wear my Whittier College mascot-logo-inscribed ballcap: FEAR THE POETS. On Lovers Point I write haiku. A man and woman picnic —— he never off his cell phone. I approach and hand her my poem. They depart without exchanging a word… or a look. man and…
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13065
|
|
13031
|
Pass frame.Avert eyes.If Ido look,I'm stillnot there.
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12975
|
"Why didn't they just elevate the drug levels and kill her off like that?"
|
12921
|
George Herbert, poet and Anglican priest, died of tuberulosis in 1633 at age 40. His friends described his last three weeks in sickbed, attended to by them and members of his family. They recorded his words: "I now look back on the pleasures of my life past, and see in…
|
12843
|
Overheard from the back seat of car:
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128138
|
|
12895
|
I was working on my dissertation that summer, and I took a part-time job doing psychological testing in a poor public school system. The town would send me around to different elementary schools to test their most troubled children, or, rather,…
|
12875
|
I listen to my psychotherapy patients complain about their lives all day. Bitterly, hopelessly. I listen for little openings that offer possibilities for changing perspective and feeling weller. But my five minutes between each session, whether it includes a bathroom or…
|
128127
|
|
12811
|
Doris LessingWasn´t messingAbout or wingingIt when she wrote The Grass Is Singing
|
128149
|
the only safe place for him was anywhere he and Barkley could huddle,
|
12688
|
My grandmother and her children spent six weeks living in barns, then were taken for a three day nightmare ride in hot cattle cars to Auschwitz.
|
125158
|
|
12553
|
‘Your writing is terrible,’ she said triumphantly, and there was silence. I wanted to say, no Tara, that’s too much, he needs this – working terrible jobs for years, forever, always feeling the discrepancy between his middle-class childhood and his hand-
|
12400
|
It's been nearly a full week since getting rid of our cable. As my lady put it, "It feels good not to be connected to the social unconscious." Do I feel like less of a programmed drone? Only to a certain extent.
|
12497
|
There were so many suicide choices it seemed overwhelming. The chief criteria was the least pain.
|
121178
|
Here's how it works. The clock in my therapy office ticks off the minutes I get to spend talking with each patient, forty-five in and out, regardless of the amount of distress. Less distress has the option of being shoved out earlier but…
|
1211211
|
I am Gloria, age nine, standing with my left hand on the green gate to the yard of the farmhouse that I will always consider Home
|
12044
|
|
120125
|
The vet sat with a young woman and old man on a bench in the waiting area. The vet talked like a machine-gun, giving post-surgical instructions for the care of a dog as the woman petted the back of her father who was trembling like…
|
11921
|
On my way to the creative writing class the next week, I decided that, despite the canonical immortalization of ‘Virginia’ the nineteen-year-old nymph, I didn’t like his story. What was I going to say? Did he expect me to fuck him now? My hands grew sweat
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