3848 29 23
|
*** Winner of the 15th Glass Woman Prize. Thank you, Beate Sigriddaughter.
|
38442218
|
How to not be a redneck? Basically, it is a matter of volume, ancestor worship, respect for the truth and a command of the English language.
|
38433519
|
The gull put its foot down, stretched its wings out and swept into the salty breeze.
|
384095
|
|
38358543
|
"You," he says, "Sit in here."
|
38355229
|
If you consider yourself neither little nor big, remember that anything large, colossal, macroscopic, ample, sizable, blown-up, bulky, mighty was once small, lesser, minute, tiny, dinky, gnomish, weeny or lilliputian.
|
3829118
|
Lisa Duncan's mom was puffy, and you could always see part of her breasts.
|
382932
|
“Where do you want your mustache?” Melanie asked. “You can have it on the side, you know, or, if you prefer, across your labia, in which case it will also look like a cross?”
|
3828209
|
My son thinks he's French.His accent was cute at first, but it's starting to get on my nerves. If he asks for another glass of Beaujolais I'm gonna go to jail for child abuse.Yesterday, I walked upstairs to make him turn his new Jacques Brel album down and I swear it…
|
38263215
|
She's having trouble remembering the names of things.
|
38202220
|
Paris was a better place for African Americans in those days. Josephine Baker sent a spray of roses. James Baldwin helped him find a good apartment.
|
38152217
|
It was war without beginning or end.
|
38072529
|
While Kate practiced the piano in the tiny third-floor apartment, Wiley cooked dinner, jogging in place in front of the stove.
|
38065127
|
The night my mother dies we'd watched Solaris at the Quad Cinemas Afterward Hauser and I videotape each other, ask probing questions like where do you go when you die, and what is God, and who are you now? …
|
38041811
|
When I finally met the time broker, he sat at an antiquated mahogany desk with no computer. He looked up and waited for me to speak. "Time for sale," his ad had advertised, and I was ready to pay
|
380430
|
Flying Piece of Art Causes Chaos in Switzerland
(from news article, with some additions)
A giant inflatable dog turd by an American artist blew away from an exhibition in the garden of a Swiss Museum, bringing down a power line and breaking a gree
|
380023
|
It’s that, really, nothing else could be
Sleep and Poetry, Mr. Keats
|
379900
|
A cellphone vibrates ineffectually against unfeeling skin. One last rivulet of blood slowly oozes down the wall as it dries. The rest of the room is still.
|
3795106
|
A new constellation in the sweet hereafter.
|
37941613
|
I'd kill a gas attendant in Playa Del Mar.
You'd read stained romance novels in motel rooms, while I oiled the gun and laughed on the phone, to no one.
|
379311
|
IT SNOWED all day the Monday after Thanksgiving. After supper and homework, my brother, Will, and I sat in the narrowly opened window of the second floor apartment where we lived and watched the older kids run their bicycles down Sweet's Hill and hit their brakes at…
|
37887938
|
The repair man is conscientious in this as he is with all things, light with his fingers and his tongue. His hair falls over his eyes as he works her.
|
37857746
|
I squeeze the soft bag tighter between my legs.
|
37751210
|
Brian stands. The edge of the tablecloth goes up with him, clings to his belt buckle, so he must beat it down. Everyone looks at him. The two old ones at the end glare at him coldly, four stupid eyes.
|
37721910
|
He played real good
But never looked
At no one
Strong guitar
Weak knees
|
37661412
|
they'll leave soon for the drive north on the interstate
|
376161
|
Listen, I don’t want to get all teary and here I am getting all teary, but it’s not what you think. What it is is that I think about that very first time, when she comes out of the bathroom completely naked and she looks like heaven’s very best neig
|
375611
|
"This is where the children play," the woman said cheerily.
She gestured toward the flat bed of a pickup truck. The edge was surrounded by a makeshift wooden fence that looked like it had been made out of old orange crates.
|
374621
|
Sunday mornings my mother got up early—and dragged me kicking and screaming out of bed and into my nicest jeans and sweater. I have still never thanked her. (I’m borrowing, of course, but that doesn’t make it any less true.)
|
37462922
|
and there is no climbing up/
to any height, and the sun/
is cloaked by cloud,
|
