1818 9 6
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The phone owner pre-writes his or her dying words! The app stores them and releases them at the moment of his death!
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18181411
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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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1818148
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Trying to hide, and yet, what continued to permeate was the shiny.
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181832
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Rob thought he might even make it. He'd stopped off south of Seattle, in Kent, and filled up the tank and went back in the can and topped off again. He got back on the road, to all appearances blase, blase. The montages were muted, at least for…
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181782
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The midsummer sky is black above us when I hear Dad say my name, quiet like I’ve never heard before. I let my hands drop away from my face and crawl towards him.
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181700
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No news spreads faster than news of a death. Word of the death of a child can be heard simultaneously in a thousand places. . . the word spread by telephone, in back yards from clothesline to clothesline, with whispers in grocery stores, in the looks on faces stunned into…
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181611
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I am one one millionth of a ratings point. A little flash of electronic blue against the wall of an otherwise unlit upstairs room at night. Walk by on the sidewalk feeling lonely, then see that harsh spark of indigo spring from the dark window above and
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181644
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by the time he's moves onto knives, she has appeared in next door's window: sliver of nut-pale belly, fingers wet with suds, nails painted bright as glitterballs.
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1816109
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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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18152011
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...you lick you ice cream, little pink tongue like a cat's, flick, flick... lick fast, girl, the heat's gonna melt it...
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181543
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I cannot read one more award winning novel by a female Asian author about the atrocities committed against their childhood, she thought. Then she sat down with her trusty yellow pad and Papermate fineline to write the next lyrical story of a female Asian writer and the…
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18152119
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Every day hurts, just a little, but not enough
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18151311
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When she opens the door, I say hi and introduce her to my friend, a bottle of J.T.S. Brown. She laughs and tells me to come on in before I fall down.
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181556
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This violin of oneself, this rough strum of I, arc of wing over thick rib. This masturbatory chirping like the meat of God clenched in your teeth, an apostrophe giving aloneness possession over the inarticulate, a bridge between chords.
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181554
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“If you guys ever get back together, I’d make him sign a contract.”
I smiled, but cautioned, “Not sure that would work.”
She answered with emphatic confidence, “You haven’t seen how good I am at writing contracts!"
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18141616
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There were one hundred titles on the list. One hundred books that could neither be assigned nor put on a recommended reading list.
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1814117
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I am so happy to see winter almost gone
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181422
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Why is the ghost of John Lennon haunting a house in rural Oregon?
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18141514
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The mandatory is not / your friend
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181488
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The trouble began in October, when Ava, an embittered receptionist who worked at a small museum housed in a five-story Westside brownstone, discovered that the floors were littered with enormous grey feathers
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181400
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They stood before the opened door, where cold vapor seeped out along their feet and chilled their bodies. The Avatars figured this was what the necromancer used to get inside.
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181470
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"Do you have to call your brother a loser? He is not a loser and that was just uncalled for"
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18132416
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Veiled by tenuous clouds and dirty air,
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181366
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As military tears soaked into hymnbook pages
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1813113
|
Suzie went on to become an anchorwoman in Los Angeles after college. She had tiny bruises on her feet where she’d shoot heroin since she didn’t want tracks to show on her arms, where they’d ruin the effect of a little black cocktail dress
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1813107
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Sometimes after bookbinding for a few hours at the hand-sewing table, Jillie would, after scraping her knife too roughly over the glue of an old book's spine, feel not like a resurrector of literature, as she should, but a killer. Not a calculating or
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181351
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Leave your dog and your dog-eared lovers at the door. I smile at the bouncer, pay my ticket, and wink at a slasher chick. She gets pumped on heavy metal gods and Kwaito
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181331
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Mr. Lowell knelt down and put his face in his hands, his knees quickly covered in blood. Sobs.
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181200
|
“Yeah, she's a real slut,” many contestants' mothers say.
“If he could only keep it in his pants, he'd probably be able to stay in the country,” others say about their sons
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181223
|
“How scared?” Mikey said, not wanting to find out, and already looking pretty nervous.
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