Stories tagged words

Burnab

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Lise started making up words when she lost her voice.

The Last Words of a Genius

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The crowd gathered around the dying man's bed, waiting for his last words. He was a genius. The most prolific writer and philosopher to ever live. He wiped his ass with the words of Shakespeare. The thoughts of Plato, Socrates, Descartes, and Nietzsche w

Human Thesaurus

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Once when we were new she swung her foot in rage and I caught it. Black stocking, toenails polished red, beautiful silk appendage. Urge, desideratum, compulsion. I pulled her toward me, collapsed us together.

Letter to Natalie Goldberg

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I withdraw too quickly, an inverse premature ejaculation...

Why I Write

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Creep up behind me one day and prick my skin. I promise you won’t draw blood – for it is ink that will spurt from my veins.

An Episode of Boxes

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In this episode the children in the classroom will all wear boxes over their heads and will search the room with their hands. Their hands will be hands that have been reconnected. Their hands will wear seams as sleeves and curse in red. The hands that…

A Word A Day

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Words had begun slipping away from him years before when he thought nothing of it, as those were unimportant authors or cookie cutter actresses.

A Paris Stop

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Outside a cafe in Paris a discarded bicycle leans against a street lamp. Years ago a man cycling home from work stopped for a coffee and there, by chance, met the love of his life.Under gray skies, the awning dripped a single wet chill down my collar. We had…

Second Chance

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Now, he was here again, alone, drawn back by those memories.

Lamenting Lexiconical Loss

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Neglected long enough, uncalled for/ by the shrinking language of the day,// my words abandon me.

Fragment from a Paper Story

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While Leif was still very young, his emotions were very easy to read, for they appeared on his parchment coloured skin, named in his mother's writing. When he was seventeen, Leif fell in love. She was a pretty maid, one of the college servants who kept his…

Wordswhisperlove

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His eyes begin to glisten like hot green wax pooling around the wick of a pretty little candle.

Here is a game...

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I give you three words dripping wet with whatever and you take them, harbor them...

The Conversation

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Listening is loving. What is more erotic than these fathoms, skeins, words, roping tight the ardent ear.

All About You

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Sometimes you want to strike out at me. What is stopping you? There is no stopping you. You know I will not retaliate. Gone is all that I will be to you then.