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“Eat more bugs,” said an old one.
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68320
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Suppose a bowl of mushroom soup.
A table and a chair.
A woman arguing against the uselessness of war.
A bomb ticking in a man’s groin.
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I remember so many things … do you remember who I am yet? I attached pictures to jog your memory, including the house on Euclid where I lived.
That’s my high school graduation photo. I was wearing my hair short that year, and blonde and natural,
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“Ah, there’s the Tasmanian tiger,” the visitor says in an American accent, maybe midwestern. “It’s called a ‘thyracine,’ right?”
“Thylacine, yes.”
“Un huh. Thylacine. Extinct now, isn’t it?”
“Oh! Let’s hope not
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112000
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Coagulating sky, a turbulentheave of orange, blood red,hell's fire smeared —below, tar seas bulgeat the seams, engulfing ships.Pier-bound she streaksand wails as the seaswells and threatens to claim —, corpse head, baldeyes, her death robescling to…
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August 14
I remember the smell of fresh air. The feeling of clean air in your lungs. I haven't had that feeling in quite some time now. I guess few people have.
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It's dawn. It's quiet on the pond in the Public Garden. The light is calm, the pollution is mild, and everything is still,except for the occasional cruising taxi. It's the beginning of spring-- tulips out, leaves…
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Newton Foster was charged with disorderly conduct for biting a dog known as Shoo Shoo Baby owned by Lula Scroggins.
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Duh. It’s all the same sky. Instead I nod, and don’t say anything.
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As Gino exited the supermarket, plastics bags in tow, he began doing curls with his right arm. He’d been doing this for years, reasoning that he might as well get some exercise during the walk home.
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“Honey, honey.” He tried to take her hand but she pulled away. “This is about the cup. Don't make it about us.”
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She left the bathroom and slammed the bedroom door. He heard the lock close.
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Meanwhile stars continue to surprise...
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The pier stretched out by where sharks came and men waited with beautiful dirty buckets that held strange and dangerous things, buckets with fish guts, buckets with blood, with character, buckets like prophets or a gritty desert walking saviour like Chris
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The night was black as burned flesh.
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you'll call it jealousy, but i promise youit's really not, because i wouldn't liketo have your life any more than i wouldmine. because really, i lead a life notunlike that of a housecat, knockingaround and getting spooked by closingdoors when i know nobody is in. what…
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81900
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His cheeks were extremely pink but the pink was not the shade usually associated with good health, it was the pink of Death.
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A man strolled by with perfect posture and a masterful comb-over. Bud gave me that 'get him' expression; sitting there with his own low side part. We razzed him about it all the time, but he still looked pretty-damn-good for seventy-five.
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She wheeled more deeply into the office towards Mason’s desk. Keith hurried to the desk and pulled the chair out of the way for her and a sat down next to her. She was blue-eyed, pale and completely hairless, which made it difficult to guess her age.
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It wasn't the sun sparkling
Or the dog of the neighbor
Barking.
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The recent release of my debut novel alt.punk was extraordinarily exciting; however, maturing the novel from first draft to publication was not without editing pains. Similar to the Kübler-Ross theory, I progressed through what I refer to as the “five sta
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156010
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I was getting ready to eat a thick peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich when a blue spider pushed up a corner of the bread from the inside and said, "Don't chomp, don't chew! We're in here, we're having a good time, and we don't feel like being eaten.
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So, the sweet beast of idle speculation may be calling my name by memory, because I am capable of feeling, or suffering. I may be a conduit to such, because the rational soul provides the bridge. Some wild ass summoning your name, clean, uncovered, disc
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82620
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If you had gotten pregnant our last time, in 1967 (when you lied and told me “I guess I’m finally over you,”) then our son could have been that man you saw with the drooping moustache and his coattails flying in the lobby of the building in Louisville,
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I knew this woman would come up eventually. She used to wait on us at Villa Nova, while a bunch of us sat drinking
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I won't ever forget the image of my father, behind the wheel of the Cadillac he so loved. Even as a ten year old, and more as an adult, I could never figure out why he loved that car as much as he did. I must explain that he was really my step father,…
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We creep the hill, flat on our bellies through yellowed grass and stone, black dirt grimed on our bright faces like powdered war paint. We are sitting ducks as we approach, out in the open like this but Cobb believes no one will be watching this side; it
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“If Sir would observe, the storm welt, a shoe for the big occasion, a shoe that will guide sir through the dismal passages, a shoe that will roar in the face of adversity and …”
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Saturday night in the suburbs west of Boston. As Pancho Sanza and I drift wearily from one upscale restaurant to another, we see an endless parade of husbands whose indifference to their wives borders on cruelty.
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