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They heard Chu’s voice, he was lying ten feet away, his skull opened up.
“Find my change,” was all he was saying. “I left my change around, look for it."
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The mother was happy, though. She was happy because she could make him some soup and then she could feed it to him in bed.
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The first thing Noah did, more or less, was plant a vineyard.
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Shivering in the car, he watched his parents arguing under the porch light. He saw the smoking anger of their breath as they jabbed the cold air with accusatory fingers.
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Amir was a ghost, and he was terrible at it. No one had taught him how to be a ghost. There was no orientation, no welcome packet, no handbook. Ghosts started in limbo with only a name, and nothing else.
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She burps in beauty, like a frog
Who sits on lily pad so green,
Resounding nightly in his bog
But to my eyes unseen.
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He had no idea about the first three cards - what he would call the flop - which looked dubious and full of danger.
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I’ve seen your tired souls
riding under the city
lost in the drowsiness
of morning calm commutes.
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Thin slices of ruby tomato, red onion, and green peppers joined the bacchanal, wilting in the bliss of chile and cilantro raining down on them.
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She threw the wine glass on the floor.
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Was it only for the vast dance of the darling soul, that you were born? Not to give up your genetics? Made for the use of the future, were you? I should have known. I heard the wind that swirled within you, even then, when we were so young.
You were
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The Syringimals were filled to their 60 ml capacity with a gelatinous ocher blood. They fluttered around using sparkly wings stolen from Disney fairies, and attempted language through wax lips that were usually secured with scotch tape.
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I want to read a story that ends unhappily ever after: one where the bad guy wins and no one gets the girl.
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I am exceeded / by a leaf
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We were pushing ninety down the highway through a stretch of what rightfully should have been called the Badlands. We were both absorbed and coping with the rapidly escalating stages of desperation and so neither of us noticed when the yellow figure stepped…
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This new kid on the block, named Miller, showed up out of the blue one day, while we were throwing rocks and boulders down on this flimsy gray sheet of construction plywood that was covering an open trench in front of a new house on our block. One of the
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you said, 'watch it. i am the mountain,' so i aimed 'pause' at the VCR and believed. shook my legs, tangled your red silk to hold back the tremor. in the dream i did not kiss you, but in this story i do and it breaks
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Apocalyptica 1. the portent holds you while you try for solace in the bath anticipating the opened mouth the one that cannot close after and there is a knotting inside of joints and threads poised so delicately in the waiting …
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I realize most automatonical authors stick to non-fiction, but if my work bears any resemblance to real automatons or events, I assure you it is purely coincidental.
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how many lighted days remain
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#1. No chocolate or dessert ads of any kind after 8 p.m.
#2. No names such as Wild Ferret, Backhoe, or Bunny Bacon allowed on the internet
after hours.
#3. No Smoky Motor Cars
It’s the New Society. All will be well, after dark. Remember, only the
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It’s last call for the Class of 2001, their five-year reunion drawing to a close, and Brenner, in his standard t-shirt and holey jeans, has just arrived.
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Random Access
Hundred Dollar Bill
Burning Question
The Black Truffles
Open John
Queasy Sister
Tortoise and the Hair
Duck Tail and the Wrap
Stiff Resistance
Knee Jerk Reaction
Tough Cookie
Bar Code and the Illusion
Erosion
Eroti
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A bridge not satisfied with just crossing the river - It slashed through the sky, crashed through nature - Creating a new nature, a double-decker
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But you're everywhere, how can I move on? It's so easy for people to say, Get over it, the ‘it' being the smell of your skin, your smile, the taste of your lips, always sweet and salty, like a carnival treat. Remember that neon night when we knew it was over, how we…
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On the other pillow is a ladybird which escaped from a dream. It reminds me of when I was a tiny red polka dot. And then bigger, and other colours. And then… I stare at the ceiling, searching its soul for little things. The ladybird touches my arm, whispers…
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I read the runes, the cards, the signs, the sticks. I consulted tarot cards and read tea leaves. I listened to you, deconstructed every word and look and tone with the harshest logic and cynicism I could muster. If there was some way to decipher what you
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laying with you, thinking with you, breathing with you
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