94000
|
A door slams. The vibrations rattle through the floor, up his legs and into his chest. He can hear the yells, and the tears that mar her voice. Rat-ta-tatRat-ta-tat A door slams. Eyes closed while images of a life he will never live flicker on…
|
134900
|
The artist leans back in his chair, smoking a cigarette
after lunch, looking away from the table toward the right
He is dressed in white, and he's practically stretched out
his entire length, to relax after rowing the boat all
morning. Sunlight
|
140221
|
"Look, Ted, I'm on a timer. It's really hell here, you can't imagine. And I have a chance to get paroled early, if you do me a solid."
|
24571811
|
Let’s face it, there are simply too many things too know these days.
|
900
|
Gin walks the corridors of recollection in your somewhat spleened and splintered internal dialogue. Love is a battlefield.
|
730
|
empty pages are filled already
|
672710
|
Chance, luck, fate, the finger of an angry god.
|
13211515
|
A steady drone buzzed from above and crashed his ears like car horns.
|
167533
|
Blacked-out out on junk, I bet money on a sport I hated just last year.
|
106900
|
‘They will follow, but we have to go now’
‘Wait , I can see something familiar...’
|
100
|
|
72700
|
What we see is the aspiration of flesh to beauty
not the fact, which may be ugly. That the light pours
down on them, as they wait in the wings to go on
stage. The cool and warm pastels separating
on their flesh. Green and white above, warm red
a
|
5085
|
She’s a profile, a lovely profile. She looks back, smiles.
|
400
|
|
200
|
The story will find its own way.
|