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When we say "Nanoism is looking for twitter-fiction serials for its current contest," this is one example of what we mean.
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Slut Whore has every Barbie on the market lined up sitting on the windowsill along her bedroom wall, and all their best clothes and accessories.
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He sat behind her in Honors English, each day studying everything about her.......
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It was the shock of black hair twisted into a long thick braid that got our attention and made us want to find meaning here. Albert thought he recognized the hair in the grave.
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“Imagine a Shakespearean scholar coming upon an undiscovered work by the Bard. That’s how thrilling this is."
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Face defined-front part of head
Cybil's eyes stick to a mirror and guard the woman's skin. The woman's image could be the result of uncontrolled narcissism, yet dry wrinkles are visible from her reflection. Disguise cream covers some of the woman's c
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Bearing the smell of paper on her fingertips. Ink in her hair.
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My eyes don’t close but hers are shut tight, and something inside tells me that to this girl, I could be absolutely anyone.
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There was an implicit understanding, made clear by Athena's gentle stroking of Freddy's silky blond hair, that he would share her canopy bed with its frilly fuchsia pillows. He didn't mind this, despite despising the color of the pillows.
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We have morning doves. Sparrows. And these orange-beaked birds that Karen spotted one afternoon and which gave her dreams that night about wild toucans and macaws and about two parrots—white and red—that adopted her as their mother when she said, ...
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Now all I have left is yesterdays.
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On the day my grandmother was buried, my grandfather shucked corn.
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Couldn't get that first beer past his nose. Fared no better with wine, gagging on red and white. Then someone fixed him screwdriver.
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Set your three-word story in prison.
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Jason poured himself another glass of Burgundy and tried to flush Jenna from his thoughts
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Elvis awoke in a cold, dank sweat, hungover from bourbon and bad dreams.
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When Carlton Hanks bought the house on the corner of Annunciation and General Pershing, right next to St. Anthony’s Catholic Church, he believed that he’d live in peace.
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Goodbye comes in stages. At first you recognize that you will “miss” someone when they are gone. Then you have to accept the fact that they are leaving. And finally accept the fact that they are gone; and not particularly in that order. If only it
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The schedule fell smoothly into place: After Imogene went home at the end of the day, Calvin locked the office door, then he and Rosalie marched into the examination room and she flossed him.
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“Where is my mom?” I think. I shouldn't have to be here alone. I am twenty two years old, strung-out on methamphetamine and sitting in a courtroom. It is the third day of the murder trial. My son was the victim. He was only two and his…
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She woke before the sun was up to brew a pot of coffee. His eyes blinked open as he lay in bed smiling, smelling the fresh coffee mixed with marijuana smoke. He walked to the living room and sat next to her on the couch. He rested his head against her shoulder.…
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It's difficult to remember, much less write down, the hard times you thought were unforgettable when you have a full stomach. It's hard to remember that dirty little room you rented in that house, from a Bosnian landlord, on 27th avenue and Missouri. The…
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You’re broken. Your eyes don’t see quite right, and your hands don’t feel quick enough. I love you anyway.
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Six months ago, Gary hired a goateed designer to "defoliate" the office, trucking out all the ficus trees and spanish moss to make room for curved sheets of fiberglass and, as he called it, "negative space." Now, her voice echoes off the concrete floors.
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So when they shake a finger, when they yell, she remembers Miss Whalen saying, “It’s not for keeps.”
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He said he'd searched in vain for his wife, Mary, before abandoning hope and the ship in one of the last row boats. He was allowed in because of his experience fishing.
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Her gaunt arms softly rose, sweeping in front of her with movements that were hesitant at first but, as the music that only she could hear took her in its grip, became graceful and assured.
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At two AM I went to bed, and the mill shut down shortly after. The silence jerked me out of sleep so fast I almost screamed. Choking and sweating, I lay there and tried to figure out why I was so scared. And then I realized: for the first time in half a y
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94% Battery Power Remaining
Last night I dreamt about a mutt whose tail never learned how to wag, and under a sun that gagged us with heat, the mutt sat stoned with its mouth belching cones of pot smoke. Sometimes the smoke shone orange – sometim
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