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I remember sitting on the screened-in front porch of my house on Illinois Street that summer that we met. I had just come up from school at downstate Illinois. I remember eating a peach and listening to the sounds in my neighborhood, just listening. The
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When I was a small child, my father was just barely a man, and he was independently wealthy. So it didn't matter that he was an adolescent inside. There was never any mention of "working." No notion of career. Just the girl he knocked up and the amusing…
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A Massachusetts nursing home that doesn’t believe in antipsychotic drugs uses a llama named Travis to calm patients.
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I remember the first time I saw her. I'd just pushed through the crowded bar and waited to place my order.
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behind the curtainof a ballsy fragilitythere lives an easethat was not easythere exists a gracethat is not always gracefulbeauty can maskcheekbones that sometimes look sadwhen they are smilingeven grin determinationneeds downtimethe prize is still thereeven if the eyes…
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I remember it was raining and I didn't have an umbrella and I was standing there on the corner, waiting for Rudy's school bus, thinking, Why don't I have an umbrella?
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When the great comet passed over, everyone was at my door with pitch forks and rifles with extra long bayonets. Don’t kill it yet; I want to study its habits.
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... she’d stolen her boyfriend away from her, leaving her with a goldfish and a cat. Oh, and a pillow and some lights, she added. And I can’t really see you, because I’m blind.
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[...] A crimson post-it note/ illustrates the squiggle of a resting pulse wavering/
near the broken pencil leads and whorls of/soft wood which may be classed as evidence.
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“Your children are beautiful,” she said, handing back his wallet after removing several bills. Her mouth was fringed by bitten-off melon lipstick, a calm kind of mad. She told him to call her Sally, “like the song McCartney rips his lungs on.” She…
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The girl has big tits for only being fourteen. She leans in the passenger side window of my car and asks me for a bag of ten Oxycontin.She has no clue what I could do to her right now, that I'm a cop and could bring her ass up on charges if I wanted to. I want to do…
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I don't know what my mother is thinking. She's either cart wheeling into crazy land or turning into a ghoul.
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People questioned my motives when I became a smokejumper again. They said I had a death wish, or that somehow by going into battle against the big Pacific Northwest forest fires, I was still trying to put out the flames of the burning car in which my sons Jake (age…
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Stupid's rising up, I see. Melting all the intellect. I before E, except after C, but that's not how the alphabet goes.
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Do you know if you were actually speaking to me there?
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We're alone and besieged / by badness.
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"I expect 50% of the agreed fee. In cash.” I dropped the envelope at the designated spot and parked up the street.
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Knocked off around noon, drank some retsina, checked Olympics results. Can’t find Medea’s motivation. Why would she kill her kids?
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Because he tells her to, she puts on a vintage Easter dress one size too small and sprawls in a circle of light on the dusty floor...
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The trainers looked at her and smiled and they were still one creature with four legs and two heads. The old man’s left eye moved in sync with the younger one’s right eye.
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That's when we struggle, got it? Right there on the floor. It's not the brawl of the century, and I'm not the pilot who delivers the Enola Gay.
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...there’s one thing we’ve found, an untapped demographic.
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--New Patient: Pearl, 48, 15:00 PM
Pearl is not her real name. Her real name is Stella. Pearl used a fake name to get past the intake screeners. Pearl is my ex-wife.
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I'm not dying. What is it called if you think you might have Hypochondria but you really don't? I'm worried that's what I have. Is it cold in here? Or is it me, dying?
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When we arriveand are met by strange friendsstrange like the fog on the redreed mudflatsthat span the low tide around Incheon -When we arrivecarrying so much we will not needlike the bus they hire to take us through the darksix people to fill so much more space - When…
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We are not doing a good job of ignoring Pink Floyd.
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The imitator’s segue to his sad life story was, “But what isn’t funny…”
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Once, I asked my father why Rex turned around three times before settling down for a nap. He told me it was because one good turn deserves another, then he laughed.
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The sand felt warm, the way it usually was on Saturday afternoons in Seaside Heights; face down on the beach under a hot July sun that burned my back and shoulders
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