1998 2 0
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Someday they'll find me face-down in a puddle of ink.
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199765
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I. Sweet Anthill The anthill is in front of my house. It started with a cupcake I dropped on the ground, frosting first. The ants started to congregate, carrying sprinkles and cake crumbs into the deep sidewalk crack. A week…
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1997109
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"Why didn't you tell me it was Halloween?" he asked. She shook her head. The doorbell rang.
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199722
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"You're going to have to call me 'dead eye' after I get this possum."
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1997189
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199700
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He heard her crying out behind the curtain that had been drawn around the bed. Each cry was more strained than the last. She complained about the burning, called the nurses "putane" and threatened to rip out the device they'd inserted into her. He sat t
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199763
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The Operations Management Guru was visiting the twenty-fourth floor on Tuesday, and everyone at the company was wicked with fear.
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199675
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Came to admire Kiyoko Matsumoto. Japanese. Aged 19. Lesbian. 1933. Jumped into a volcano.
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199687
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Megan beat up on herself later over the unsaid.
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199663
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No flinch, no stretch, no letting the cook get all golden about the chopping block.
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199631
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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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19961616
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WITH A BOW TO DOROTHY PARKERWhen his fingers sped along the keys, I'd need to sit. I'd such weak knees. I thought him charming, tall, and able, then he overturned the table. Chili, crackers, cheddar cheese crashed on me-he'd been displeased. I…
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19961411
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I'm sure someone somewhere must havefelt something like it before. Imean I've never been able tohave this kind of deep longing asif you might want to forget everythingyou know. I always figured that funny stuff onlyhappened to folks in a foreignfilm. Not to some guy…
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1996139
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He saw symmetry, exquisite geometry, body and built world in harmony.
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199500
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The road that passed through the swamp near where the cemetery stood, that is, the road that passed by the cemetery that stood near where the swamp lay—but no, that’s not the case, because that’s not the same road. If I’d been on THAT road—
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199521
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Six weeks, four thousand dollars, and twelve hundred miles later, I figured I was done with the cleansing process.
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1995149
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It's eerie. There are no birds. My friend and I take our morning walk in a bubble of silence.
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199500
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A dark-haired, handsome man adjusted the headset he was wearing, leaned toward a microphone, and eyed his host, a curly-haired man with a toothy grin, who sat up straight as he received a cue from his producer.
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19951917
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It felt like I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be, like I’d walked into a house that looked like mine, but belonged to someone else.
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199474
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You want to read, you know where to click.
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199498
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My brother died in his sleep almost two months ago. He was 25. He was addicted to pharmaceuticals. Two days before he died, he fell asleep at the wheel and crashed his truck into a highway sign. It was the last thing he owned. He had been living with m
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199498
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Miguel's mom told everyone if you pressed your ear against the knot, Jesus would tell you special secrets.
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1994198
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He stared at the mirror, his hair looked chewed up–severed by a miniature lawnmower.
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1994158
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If This Were Baltimore East A spray of change in the lilies and loose rubber, she pulled close to the wall. She smiled at the trucks, her handful of loot. Hallelujah, he said, converting. West Like 4 miles of cakes, they counted…
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199400
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This is Chapter 2 of my serialzied novel Girma Dali. The title character reflects upon his youth and the young boy, Benga, who mentored him into adolescence.
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199484
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Mimi: Santa, I am so down with taking a number, but I really can't have you reading that particular story.
Santa: Let me be the judge of that. I am Santa. I give presents to kids.
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1994109
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The winner was some kid from Ohio or Oklahoma -- one of those states that begins with an "O" and ends with a yawn.
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199330
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199321
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The punk boys are my favorite. They come with an attitude, the piercings and the chains and the baggy pants with their underwear hanging out. I’m a punk myself, I tell them. The long white hair and beard? They’re real, my friend.
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19921710
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The leaves are telegrams sent from the branches to the wind, saying, “it's over stop don't send kisses stop forget me.”
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