1962 36 26
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I watch my mother and my daughter, each wondering in her own quiet way about where this story will go next.
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1961 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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1961 6 3
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Cap'n Pepper tries and tries but Old Salty is never happy.
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1961 20 9
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My mother’s old china no longer reflects. It’s value is now estimated as drywall.
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1961 10 5
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The waters rose / on the earth
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1961 10 1
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Do you want an ass mi Nina Bonita? I buy you jeans that work like a Miracle Bra for your behind.
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1961 1 0
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I am wearing stolen socks. Not because I haven't any of my own, and not because they are an exact fit. Only because they soothe my emptiness inside.
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1961 5 4
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The apartment was a second-level place, so I went down the steps and looked through the stained glass window of the door. “Ah hell,” I said to myself. Raymond Carver and John Fante and Charles Bukowski were outside. I opened the door.
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1960 9 11
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The understanding we made was neatly wrapped up in its own blue tissue cocoon like a neatly rolled joint and dumped unceremoniously into the forgotten past like a plate of leftover digitized lies. The lid was slammed shut. Time passes too tightly. And you …
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1960 24 10
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One sunny morning, a big-bellied ball of yellow fur surveyed a yard full of prospective adopters and ran straight to one.
She’d been chosen.
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1960 16 15
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• Don’t confuse the virtues of bananas with the virtues of banana bread
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1960 12 7
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It was only when blood began to drip onto the page that he realized he'd been hit.
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1960 0 0
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I'm in awe of her frankness, how she takes my breath away, how I wish to rush off with her to a splendid hideaway where only the two of us touch the grape-stained mountains and the cerulean sea, wild blades of grass quivering with the breeze. Sometimes th
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1960 0 0
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The stupid suit made me look like an angel, which I hated. I wasn't here to save anyone's soul, not that any of the native animal life HAD a soul. If I have a soul myself, it is most likely in need of salvation, and in no way should I be cast in the rol
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1959 0 0
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Casting nets like Jesus to a metaphor sea
Admittedly as weak as me
But I need the hike,
Like we still like Ike
To tell us about the Military Industrial Complex
Though he never told us what came next
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1959 7 4
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She began guiding Penny’s arms, whispering movements through her body. Memory and experience sang through every fiber of their being. The song had become her life.
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1959 4 1
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I'm delighted to report that I've come up with my own school of thought. It's called, "Dress Like a Cat Until You Get What You Want."
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1959 13 11
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He had her pinned to the back seat, expressing his love. Do you love me? she whispered in his ear. Do you, do you, Jimmy Dale, do you love me? His only response…
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1959 5 3
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Once upon a time, my friend and I met a nanny pushing a baby carriage and reading an e-book. She wore a plaid dress, blue stockings and a white barrette. A set of wrinkles marred her tanned brow. Multitasking seemed too hard on her.
Inside the carriage
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1959 13 7
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1959 8 8
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I know now, how she moves without verbs
after you crushed her into the river.
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1959 7 4
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Why can't you mimic your mythical counterpart? Anna Karenina? Have you never considered the tall dark stranger? The boot to the face, the fangs on the neck? Vronsky is Russian Gentry, a veritable prince and he swept that Anna off her feet in two sec
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1958 4 2
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Here’s the story as compiled from the scantest of clues: The writing on the back of a stall door in the restroom of a twenty-four hour restaurant under the Gowanus Expressway.
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1958 0 0
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Face it girls, you want to claw my eyes out, don’t you? Or whack me across my 36 DD’s with a golf club, am I right? Well don’t blame me if I’m young, gorgeous, full-breasted and obviously the cat’s meow.
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1958 9 7
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"... I knew Willie had gone— out the back door or out the side window. I knew he probably slipped over the fence behind my house into Lou C.’s backyard..."
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1958 17 14
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When you move to the music of a woman
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1958 0 0
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Once upon a time a queen was blessed with twin sons, which she named Nosch and Amiaivel.
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1958 8 6
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His middle name was Perceval. He judged the first Miss America contest in 1922. He saw himself primarily as a storyteller in the Dickensian mode.He claimed to be an illustrator rather than an artist. He disliked driving but loved to walk, and preferred…
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1957 5 3
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Somehow I always had to sit behind him. I remember because he had a constellation of skin tags on his neck. I thought about drawing stars on him; I thought about creating a new galaxy I would rule. I should have been learning math instead. I still can’t
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1957 3 3
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salmon
maple syrup
horseradish
smoke detector
the list read, scrawled in purple marker on the refrigerator door.
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