1523 12 9
|
Wake up! But it was already too late for Charles.
|
156511
|
Almost 24 hours ago in Pakistan, Osama Bin Laden was sleeping just as he had slept every night for the hundreds of days prior; comfortable in a million dollar compound with his son and advisors around him...
|
111231
|
“The moon is a monk,”
you said.
|
119511
|
Shirley stubbed her cigarillo out on a dead chunk of honeycomb.
|
143933
|
"Dad, I already told you about your wife. She’s not coming."
|
123132
|
...the relatives didn't seem nearly as fucked up as she thought they would be considering...
|
76931
|
She read her briefs as she sat at the café table in her smart dark blue suit, and she altered the wording on the briefs in front of her, and she would check the watch at her wrist as if there were a pulse there: Am I still alive, yes. Am I still alive,
|
119931
|
“She never knew her, you know?”
Chief Jack Gardner, retired, said to the duty officer absently, thumbing a well-worn photo in his rough calloused hands. His gravelly voice cracked a bit when he said it, catching his throat.
|
144800
|
|
116600
|
We named her Big Cat—I don’t know why. Maybe because she was already grown when we got her, unlike the kittens we’d seen in the pet store window that Dad wouldn’t let us have.
|
130521
|
Everybody knew it would happen. It didn’t happen exactly when or how they thought it would, but nonetheless it happened.
“I told you it would happen,” a bearded man told his wife.
|
103611
|
He is sleek with hearts and I see a different name etched onto each one.
|
137211
|
I concluded that Parisian sexuality must be partially indebted to the cricket or grasshopper. The entrance to their flat was a wood door scarred by scriptures common to places frequented by people who have not yet made their mark on the world.
|
89442
|
First, he wrote it in a patch of new, wet cement one night at the intersection, for everyone to see, “Tad Loves Kimberley.” Maybe they were still in high school, or one of them worked at the café on the corner, and the other at the ice cream shop. Then
|
1765216
|
The "Many Worlds" theory, applied.
|
1344107
|
I reached for that hair and the air zagged white...
|
1303108
|
Sunday morning beginning with a bang. Accused, found wanting, sentenced.
|
17241211
|
fun fact: a doll's legs will twitch
while being scalped
but only for just a little bit
|
135964
|
And she warms her hands on fresh-cut gizzards, And he forgets the taste of honeyed peaches
|
64220
|
I send pronouns on walkabouts to where there are only planes and light
|
116742
|
I was in life, in my dream. I was feeling around underneath your clothing. My fingers were shining in the underwater afterlife of memory, searching for those lovely nipple-sized mollusks. I lived in a land somewhere between the past and the future. Now
|
158722
|
Janice’s jaw dropped when I told her how much we could get for it. “Enough to never work again and get a nice new pair of these,” I said, squeezing her tits.
|
124143
|
A tornado and peacock were bred in his paddock; the couple gave birth to a turquoise lasso.
|
103900
|
when I said good morning I meant
|
153900
|
When the scrapbook came out this time, I noticed a photo I hadn't seen before, the Baroness with her arm around the waist of Princess Diana. A lavish display of blooms towered behind them.
"Did you know her?" the florist asked.
|
151554
|
It made a satisfying ‘pop’ when Donnie’s nose crushed under my knuckle-scared right. I threw another to his jaw, and then a left into his gut. It had forced the air out and Donnie crumpled to the floor gasping, half sitting, gurgling through his nose.
|
91411
|
no matter how many drunks I spoke to, no matter how many strangers I tried my new theories on, no matter how many of my, currently distant friends I out-witted and educated with my revelatory nuggets of wisdom, I still see no sign of impact on the evening
|
129721
|
My buddy had been in the computer business, a systems analyst. Surely there would be some mention of him online. But there was nothing. Nothing, that is, until I saw the obituary.
|
156411
|
Jonas Griffin stared out the bay window as he drank his morning cup, his eyes gleaming with something between wistfulness and disdain at Reynold who sat patiently in the adjacent yard, leaning against the majestic oak tree that towered in its hundred year
|
156011
|
Graeme King was disturbed. He sat at his desk feeling his bloodshot eyes rolling backwards, impatient, leaden in their sockets. Could he believe what he had just seen? Surely not. Surely the late nights spent absorbing the relentless pulse of his computer screen…
|
