1764 8 7
|
On a visit, Jesus sees bracelets with WWJD. What does that mean? he asks. What Would Jesus Do? they respond. I wouldn’t wear that, he says.
|
176423
|
Helen’s mind is not on business. It’s on a pinpoint, a potential, a something so microscopic it’s more a nothing. In her center, it hums.
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1763149
|
... a moth,
a kiss. A silence.
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1763176
|
A young man pushes a stroller filled with a sleepy child. A young woman strides alongside them, her gait leisurely. They are the first to visit the park today. The trees loom, vigilant.
|
176286
|
He winked at me and said Let’s get Harris and Klebold on these motherfuckers.
|
176276
|
In a plush leather chair, / high up a shiny skyscraper,
|
176221
|
flash read. have fun *cheers*
|
17623514
|
We were destined by chemistry and plastic figurines to give it a go.
|
17621210
|
Breasts don't make you a woman, but no one told me that.
|
176285
|
Your pajamas torture us.
When moist they uncomfortably cling. They have evil buttons, and they cause us to stumble on them in the dark.
|
17611211
|
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.
|
176132
|
We are the generation who tattoo our stories on our bodies, who pierce what appears impenetrable; we fly our scars like pennants.
|
176173
|
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.
|
176194
|
I hate walking into restaurants and cafes by myself to meet someone. I always feel awkward, as if no one will claim me. I'm hanging on the threshold now for an agonizing few moments scanning the room until I see my friend.“Hi!” she says, waving her cup at…
|
176111
|
Bracing himself against the wind, Zach gets to his feet without a thought for direction or destination. In the white forever of this place, there is no lantern to light the dark and bitter woods of memory. Even the croakers would find little use for such
|
1760103
|
They slept in the same bed but that was all they had in common. He, an editor, had shelves filled with literary works and she, his wife of many years and never much of a reader, had strewn their penthouse apartment with Madeline children’s books.
|
1760203
|
“This is the most dangerous road in the world and you want to drive down it. You crazy,” he said.
|
1760122
|
Frankie married me during my theory stage. I hadn’t known her long.
|
176072
|
It's been so long since I've been in touch with any of you—if I ever was in touch with you—because my family and I took up residence in the local Wal•Mart.
|
175921
|
It was a subtle change. Jeffrey's grandmother was never graceful. Her figure was like a garbage bag filled with rounded masses of leaves and the unexpected angle of the odd stick, the entire shambling affair draped in soiled and yellowed hand-knit clothing…
|
175932
|
The first door on the right is the bedroom. Even if I try to forget; my body remembers and the strength of its yearning fairly pulls me inside. I noticed you left the door ajar. Really you should be more careful.
|
1758107
|
Carthage, Rome subdued:/itself, Rome never long tamed./Memento mori.
|
175846
|
"The problem is, sometimes my pigeon wants to fly somewhere new- to the beach or south for winter. Other times, my pigeon wants to steal someone else’s lunch or picnic with a stranger’s leftovers. Often, my pigeon wants a good show and some freedom, to be
|
17582116
|
Highway 45N cost me four dogs when I was growing up. Actually, having our backyard abut the highway was the real problem. It got to be where I was afraid to get too attached. We lost Nicky,…
|
1758238
|
|
175831
|
I arrived at Yaddo, the prestigious artists’ retreat, in the summer of 1941. With America’s “day that will live in infamy” several months away, my own day of infamy began the second morning of my residency.
|
175852
|
1 Michael Martone is Michael Martone.
1.1 Michael Martone begins, middles, and ends Michael Martone.
|
17572615
|
wear that short skirt and those high-heeled boots
|
175766
|
The light, oblique and waning, filters through butcher’s paper to reveal a body suspended in death but never decomposing.
|
175722
|
one numberless character, an army of rants marching one by one, sand by sand, we move mountains this way…
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