1899 9 6
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The throw was the last leg of a triple play.
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1899 2 1
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He tapped his foot, swished his hips, swaying across the worn tile floor with an invisible partner in his arms, the batter-coated spoon still clutched in his right hand, momentarily forgotten. Nearly a decade had passed since he last shared a dance with h
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1899 3 1
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[ETIQUETTE ... DECORUM ... BOUNDARIES ... BAH!]
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1899 2 2
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And by God he made it to heaven! St. Peter waved him on in...
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1899 17 8
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I kiss his sunburned nose, so nice under the beach house. We hear the shower of palm leaves like wings getting ready. We talk about a time we'll no longer know each other, when he'll be sad in a bar in another state, slipping and sliding and petting lost dogs in the parking…
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1898 10 13
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pluck me from the charred grate
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1898 2 1
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It’s late July, and I’ve just been given the assignment to cover Paganfoil’s ‘Warbird’ tour. To tell you the truth, I really loathe this assignment. I never, ever, EVER cared for hard rock or heavy metal or whatever they’re calling it this dec
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1898 29 12
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Night fell and the photographer slept, one hand between Prue's legs.
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1898 4 0
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Gyan Ban Thoughts - This post is about aspiring models.Scores of these dreams get killed everyday under the arc lights. Exploitation is rampant and millions of cases go unreported.This story is of one such incident.
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1898 7 6
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His toenails were so long they curled under and into the black leathery pads of his feet. They lightly clacked on our linoleum, tap shoes made of thick petrified roots. He didn't seem to mind.
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1898 20 16
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Just bring me his head, that cerebral kiln of hot, ruddy verbiage and cadence.
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1898 20 4
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In the hotel lobby, the gold light and warmth and flower arrangements were all lies, but they reminded us of spring. We imagined happiness. We checked in.
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1898 18 8
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"leaves &damage, &shifts of shape"
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1898 8 4
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When I was thirteen and still lived in the desert I saw a ghost woman at the top of a dry waterfall in the foothills.
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1898 14 12
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“I want to show you something pretty.”
She looked at me, chin on her chest, watery brown eyes looking up. Skin tags on her eyelids made it difficult for her to look as coquettish as she wanted. She tried to flutter what was left of her eyelashes, but syr
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1898 10 5
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I never killed a cop before.
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1898 11 7
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I've been avoidingyour beautiful fact for years in just the past few hours it seemslike it was the scariest plague on earth. Andit worries me becauseit's something so new that Idon't know what to dowith myself.Yes I wouldn't knowwhat to…
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1898 2 3
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I believe in theCollective conscienceOf Mankind Whatever the masses wantComes into fruitionSome genius will create itIf we want warWe will get warWe don't want peaceSo we never get itJust consider The smartphoneWhat a great deviceIt seems as if we should neverBe bored…
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1897 18 10
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I miss my fire from the first three races
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1897 18 9
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but let's stop and take another look at things
could it be through our closed eyes
that we didn't really know what we were talking about
that there never was a surprise
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1897 5 2
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My mate and I are owned, but have freedom to take to the endless sky.
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1897 4 3
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Words are not like bricks. The neighborhood flowers from within the rituals that enframe the drinking of a macchiato in a café. Now it hovers over the page.
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1897 16 16
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There's a mirror in front of me and I thought it was so I could see myself, but I didn't want to see me.
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1897 16 7
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He wears an old black tux, shiny at the elbows, and his gray hair has been styled and sprayed into a fragile tornado. On his lap sits a Chihuahua wearing a bridal outfit—veil and all.
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1896 0 1
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Jimmy Gollihue awoke to the howling of a bloodhound, a long voice from up the mountain, and the baying of the dog pulled a keening lament from his dream of the highway.
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1896 42 18
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At the Cimitiere Montparnasse he offers the girl his raincoat. I'm searching for Samuel Beckett, he says, and holds an umbrella over her as she consults her map. We're close, she says, pointing. I'll go with you. Then we can visit Simone de Beauvoir. My name is Scarlet.…
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1896 3 2
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Oh, you can’t stay, your poetry/
Is still out in the world, maybe when you die/Your volumes will make their way/Not just here but
everywhere
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1895 6 7
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“Too perfect.” my therapist intervenes in assurance, “You did enough, really. More than anyone else would.” I know the subtext is that I possibly did more than I should. My appointment is coincidentally later that day, after his goodbye letter arrives in
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1895 17 9
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I turned on the television last night, and one of the networks had a segment about a girl with no nose.
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1895 3 1
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Picking up a perfect stranger—perfect meaning dead, in this case—and shaping him into the man you’d want him to be is not so easy.
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