1077 1 1
|
Will wondered if Doobie was afraid that it might be nothing but the abyss waiting on the other side, but he promised Doobie he’d let him pass on if it was finally his time.
|
105282
|
He bites and imagines, numbed by want.
|
96311
|
A mundane endeavor depicted as a quest. Try it, you'll like it!
|
104132
|
They could have heard a pin drop in the car for the rest of the ride to her house, where she looked at him one last time and found nothing admirable, nothing memorable about him.
|
148311
|
May as well have lived two lives, he thinks: one before memory and one after. And how can you remember someone else's life? You can't. After forty years of living, he realizes that there's no way of knowing what his own eyes have witnessed.
|
410498
|
Samuel wondered if Megan could hear the brains humming, but like so many of the questions Samuel had for Megan, it was difficult to find the right moment to ask.
|
10744
|
People always ask me about Vincent Van Gogh. Everything I know about that man I learned from random people on the street coming up to me and asking. Nineteenth Century expressionist painter. Epileptic. One time during a seizure he went nuts and cut his ea
|
152172
|
She did not know Robert’s skin was sliced and bruised from the twelve pound ball and chain locked to his ankle for sixteen hours that night.
|
7520
|
The angry, thin, gray-haired man boarded the train and immediately threw his medium-sized, black, roll-away bag onto the first available seat. But he didn't sit down. He walked briskly to the back of the train car, and many more people boarded…
|
140542
|
The dogs shit on the roof and then, every two weeks or so, the man in Apartment 311 climbs out the window with a plastic shovel and scoops the shit into a white plastic bag, which soon grows heavy with dung, dangling from his black-gloved wrist.
|
130182
|
“They’re Rocky Mountain Oysters,” the blond said. “Fresh. You’ll absolutely love them Jim.”
|
1911
|
The old house smelled like copies of Life and Reader's Digest and Leica catalogs and my grandfather's nonfiction books.
|
63230
|
"Alice," says I, just avoiding being hit by her outstretched arm as she falls into a faulty breaststroke, "Would you like to come join Jane and Michael at the park this Sunday with Mary and meself?""Bert," says she, taking a long breath between strokes, "you know I'm…
|
3621
|
I knew what to expect. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was in Greg’s genes. That was easy. It was animal. Instinct lights the path, and our bodies follow the light. The real mystery is the who am I question. It drove Hamlet to murder, and l
|
21421
|
Never could figure why it was necessary that scientists get those little two-inch golf pencils to write with.
|
