138 11 3
|
It’s a shame you’re so tall, he said. Too bad you’re so short, she said. She was a gorgeous 6-foot-tall blonde and he was a love-smitten 5-foot-9. He was three inches from heaven.
|
6400
|
This story is so stupid even I can't believe I'm writing it.
|
16674
|
I take the new white negligee out of the tissue and put it in my red suitcase, zipping it shut. Last thing in, first thing out. I feed Humphrey enough to last him the weekend as he winds around my ankles. I log in one last time before I head to the airpor
|
1540910
|
I get out of the pitstop at the reststop, wade through parking lot hiphop. Hummers with Jesus Luvs George W bumper stickers, and a subdued slow hurricane of dour obese women in powder blue and tepid brown walking about the place like zombies. And I see t
|
144383
|
Julie studied her brush, plucking a strand of hair from it. She looked up and smiled. "My mother thought you were a peeper."
|
5610
|
Megan Collier clutched the metal sill of her window, torn between fear and intrigue. Though not her first film expedition, it was her first trip to the African continent. Seasoned and well-paid, this crew had weathered precarious situations before. The dr
|
88611
|
It's the dreamy air that will send you off to your death
|
95910
|
Talking to Shakespeare by the riverside,
I am saddened by my lust for women,
how my eyes fixate on the spit that passes from top to bottom lip as they talk to me.
|
114621
|
He repeated these six words like a prayer. His only confession.
|
1213021
|
Lucinda was born with red lipstick.
|
124300
|
Deployed to Afghanistan for more than half of his two-year marriage, Trent is coming home for the holidays. But which holiday, exactly? And will he make it?
|
102432
|
A woman walked in from the kitchen. She sat next to him as he poured what was left in the whiskey bottle into each glass. “They could’ve given us more time to make a payment,” he said.
|
100
|
Always the same nutmeg brown hair, always. I looked across the street through the window at the group of girls in the café. It was her, it had to be. No matter what lifetime it was she was always reborn with the same brownish red hair. And those lips…
|
14741714
|
When you move to the music of a woman
|
117107
|
You have done this dance to death in disco goldfish platform heels with strands of candy around your neck.
|
