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She lay down sideways on the couch with her large breasts spilled out toward my face, as I sat cross-legged on the floor, so that they were more or less right there in my face, and well, you pay attention when tits are hanging out in the open like that. S
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38100
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He leaned against a broken streetlight and closed his eyes. Every time he would start to nod off his head would jerk up and he'd do a quick scan of the street.
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69620
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she said, point blank, “Can you help me? I need a lover, and a friend.”
“I can be both,” I said. I don’t know, I just opened my mouth and out it flew. You don’t even stop to think what you might be saying at a moment like that. I mean, she knew I was s
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2082012
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She filled the empty stroller from Goodwill with what it might have held: blankets, animals, things babies suck and chew on.
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But only to watch the boys squelched over and over — only to suffer the longing of a life I will never live with them while in the nunnery of honey.
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We lived in a white and mint green trailer in the woods. I was 23. The hanging of the clothes on the line made me feel kind of famous in the eyes of nature
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My cousin had put them up last year, showed me when we stood on her bed as her fingers pointed, traced over the outlines, then turned out the lights, so that I could see them glow.
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109117
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He talked like Bogey on meth.
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She came out to Laguna Beach one time, and we saw each other at this party and she asked if I wanted to “ball,” as she put it. Yes, I said immediately, because I was famished and really wanted a lot of sex because I had just finished a three month project
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92521
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Then there was this short little girl, Jo Ann, who had a daughter and was divorced, who lived next door to my buddy Andy. She told me right after we did it one night that she had always wanted to have sex with me when she was growing up, as a teenager, I
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Her films are too long, too raw. Her refusal to edit is anti-cinematic. She might as well take a shit on Eisenstein's grave.
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My uncle lived part-time in prison, in a cell with a blanket, pillow, and towel. The remainder of his days he lived in a small house on Prospect Street.
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You say we will go together to the park and dig a shallow grave and atone for everything we ever did by breathing soil deep into our lungs, and the wolves will leave.
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She owned a restaurant in the desert that had copper kites pinned to the walls. There were other things too that filled the room—flies and couples who sat at low-lit tables on their desert evening date. The three cooks had the same hairdo—stiff little Mohican…
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