1964 3 1
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"I would physically — not metaphorically, mind you — make love to that avocado..."
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196431
|
The crackling inferno sweeps across the ground
Devouring all in its scorching path
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196484
|
I'm Icarus in Brueghel's painting. My wings as it turned out were made of wax. Mothers, tell your daughters this truth. You cannot fly so close to the sun.
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196363
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We buried her upright, in the stance of warriors.
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19632423
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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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196275
|
You worry that the mullahs suspect us, but that cannot be. We never touch in public. You weep and I shake when a neighbor knocks on the door.
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196242
|
“We wouldn't mock the recent Tornado victims, right? Why mock the mentally ill?” Jennifer Donnell, Fictionaut Member. The mentally ill are close to my heart, having helped the most severely impaired adults and…
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1961119
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196165
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How much more attuned he was when surrounded by forest, consigning meaning to each tiny sound.
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196199
|
Arthur farts. Pandemonium. Miss O'Kelly shouts, “Quiet!” 32 nine year-olds freeze. “Close your books, fold your hands on your desk, put your heads down.” Obedience. Silence. Until…
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1961117
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"They called him a syllannibal: a person who eats his own words. The only words he ever ate, however, were the ones he had written."
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1960122
|
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196084
|
"I am in frequent contact with you know who, and am able, most of the time, to surreptitiously send messages all day long every day, whenever I am inspired."
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196076
|
Eating Grief at Bickford's · From Allen Ginsberg's “Kaddish” There are no places anymore Where I can sit at a threadbare table Pick at the crumbs on my plate And wipe The white dust From my pitch …
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19591712
|
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195941
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----- Original Message ----- From :< brokengopher@hotmail.com> to: Sent: Friday, January 19, 2007 9:15 PM Subject: The Bob Fosse Dream Dawn, Last night I had this dream that I was going through Bob Fosse's things. NowI don't know…
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19582824
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The locals cut stone in quarries, built elevators at the Cummins plant in Columbus, or brewed shine back in the hills between Bean Blossom and Gnaw Bone.
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1958149
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She doesn't even know who wears the Adam's apple in this house.
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195800
|
“Regard this inkblot,” the Psych says to Worker 168. “What do you see?” Worker 168, a thin young women wearing overalls, peers at the inkblot. “I see a beautiful summer day,” she says. “A young woman, wearing a flowing dress, sits…
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19582711
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As soon as she left, I sat down at the computer. Booted up. Read my e-mail, then looked at pictures of bare-naked ladies.
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195832
|
Of course, you're eventually struck by the thought that the house you saw on the hill was not your house and that those children and the dog are purely matter for the strange.
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19572422
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But I came back around, after Robert Kennedy got shot, with one hand up your skirt and the other on the gear shift...
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195653
|
For the woman with no arms, life is a constant dexterity demonstration
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195611
|
Everyone asks that question. The short answer is: he brought it on himself.
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195600
|
Every trip her mother leaves it until then: Shouldn’t she look for an apartment in a better area; shouldn’t she try for a job with some future? “And, you know, someday you could get married, Carmen.”
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195611
|
“You’re off till Monday,” the big man told him. “You can thank Mr. Big Mouth and company for that. Death detail gets two days off.”
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195583
|
Figures are a strip tease.
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19541613
|
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1954133
|
We lived in a Holiday Inn trying not to be depressed that life had turned out to be so much like Eastenders, trying not to acknowledge that the thrill we’d got out of each other was the thrill of giving in to the wrong thing. We had more sex than ever b
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19543211
|
Jane watched her mother remove her wedding ring with butter.
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