52 6 1
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Henry demands that his youngest son get a summer job instead. It’ll be good for him, keep him home, STD-free.
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140463
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We buried her upright, in the stance of warriors.
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6280
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His sons have never quite looked at Charlie the way they do now.
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1191610
|
On her blog, Faiza tried to document the explosions and what she thought they meant in terms of frequency, sound and proximity. She gave up, instead detailed what was going on inside the house.
|
2100
|
The streets are fast, and they are hard; for anyone, right down to the insects who are unwittingly sentenced to a hard surface hell.
|
2700
|
Not so long ago, in a place not too far from here, there lived a big boy with big glasses. His name was Horace (after his great-grandfather on his father’s mother’s side), and he loved to watch the stars.
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104200
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I carefully placed the knife back to its original position and, with poorly contained excitement, retrieved a palm from the fridge. It was slightly wrinkled, but it was just as fair as the rest of the pristine white in the fridge. It felt warm to my hands
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98810
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And so the man-faced boy grew alone, knowing little of kindness and love. As he grew, he explored the limits of his cold world; crawling in dusty nappies, toddling in hand-me-down rags, at last walking on worn sandals, haunting the edges of human life loo
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1044124
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I was more annoyed at the scream, the icy air around us and our eventual destination–his parents, the club, small talk, all that drunken insignia.
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169511
|
You never forget your first mouthful of monkey stew.
|
29000
|
I'm upside down on my hands with my eyes to the drain, when the bottom of the tub shakes free of the rest of the bathroom and starts sinking. I descend with it into the dark water, past the submerged pipes, down into a bubbly abyss.
|
110420
|
When Elvis died, I felt so empty that I headed straight for Jimmy Choo's, but quietly, with the half-veil of my pillbox hat draped low over my face. I didn't want to draw attention to my vintage Dior mourning outfit, since I normally wear pants, even here. The voices…
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91221
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Clare sits bolt upright in the hard plastic chair, warily tracking every passer-by. In her lap, Kim’s hair is damp with sweat, dark blonde curls melting against her flushed cheeks. Clare absently strokes the length, soothing both of them.
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115641
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fated and cruel, a person I don't love
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7496
|
Passing for a dead boy ain't gonna be easy.
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