931 2 1
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There are people walking,
not knowing where they are,
a way to peace is just that--
a place to go.
|
18044622
|
Mirko returns!
All the words have been said.
|
142598
|
By Jackson, you called and said, I'll be too drunk to drive. Hell, if I do my very best, I could be blind by Shreveport.
|
130800
|
Madam Mayweather heard the laughter stop and the copy of Jean-Pierre burst into smoke. Her silence was intense. Nobody in the auditorium knew what to expect. No one dared to say a single word.
|
101942
|
That morning in the driving rain a sequence of automobiles appeared on the streets in the region with headlights in the form of television monitors
|
95101
|
I felt my words reach out and try to grab him by the heart. They missed.
|
91220
|
Her smile was a cliff I stood on, trying to wrangle some kind of hope from the whites of her teeth. I heard the sound of the buzzer from the door on my ward. She stood there, a sickly ash tree, each limb flailing about like she was drowning in my sea of a
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72700
|
What we see is the aspiration of flesh to beauty
not the fact, which may be ugly. That the light pours
down on them, as they wait in the wings to go on
stage. The cool and warm pastels separating
on their flesh. Green and white above, warm red
a
|
98787
|
Cat fight. I rush outside and swinging my trusty broom I charge the rolling yowling ball of black fur.
|
103974
|
The world is slick as alabaster, taking the guesswork out of the rain. Junction Road moves like thick grease under the tires of my '89 Skyhawk. The old car's making a clicking noise somewhere underneath the high-beam switch and the damn…
|
112031
|
. . . my mind stops idling, kicks back into gear . . .
|
107000
|
‘They will follow, but we have to go now’
‘Wait , I can see something familiar...’
|
167533
|
Blacked-out out on junk, I bet money on a sport I hated just last year.
|
236100
|
Which well-known Portland celebrity did I at-first-unwittingly accost at the Aug. 2007 Thermals show, hitting them up for $0.50 so I could get a slice of pizza ?
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118410
|
At her words I smiled amidst my teary eyes. Nick’s fingers moved between my right hand fingers, while to my left I scratched at Rodger’s puppy fuzz on her neck and ears. She exhaled and lay down, placing her head in my lap.
|
147243
|
Viewed correctly, nature is an inexhaustible storehouse of clichés. A successful landscape is their pleasing rearrangement.
|
110800
|
Hits start, enters numbers, runs the program / Does this again one hundred times / Then takes a break
|
24581811
|
Let’s face it, there are simply too many things too know these days.
|
140321
|
"Look, Ted, I'm on a timer. It's really hell here, you can't imagine. And I have a chance to get paroled early, if you do me a solid."
|
1505159
|
She tells Tuesday's lover that there's nothing wrong with cheap thrills without anesthesia,
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1483128
|
She was a beautiful woman. I don't argue with that. I welcome it.
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86332
|
Chewy is an old dog. His face is mostly white.
|
134900
|
The artist leans back in his chair, smoking a cigarette
after lunch, looking away from the table toward the right
He is dressed in white, and he's practically stretched out
his entire length, to relax after rowing the boat all
morning. Sunlight
|
108310
|
For weeks I hadn’t been able to think straight, waiting to lay vision on those majestic, swooning breasts.
|
142500
|
With Sora looking, they realized they caught her attention, but Ciel just turned away. Azure wanted to talk to her and let a few things off her chest. She figured they both could settle this through talking and move forward from there
|
177000
|
The place turns out to have a really nice ambiance, and while the pasta is only passable—though I ordered, I believe, the cheapest plate on the menu, so maybe I got what I deserved—the background dinner music playing is "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" by Wilco.
|
130232
|
You are walking through a canyon made of shelving units lined with colorful masterpieces of three-dimensional minimalist design
|
15341910
|
The snows have not come but left behind are the sounds of summer in my old neighborhood.
|
893127
|
Nostalgia is
when memories
turn into Gods
of knowing who you were.
|
94000
|
A door slams. The vibrations rattle through the floor, up his legs and into his chest. He can hear the yells, and the tears that mar her voice. Rat-ta-tatRat-ta-tat A door slams. Eyes closed while images of a life he will never live flicker on…
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