My cat likes to wake me up by licking my armpit. Never before have I had such a romantic alarm clock. It’s true, man, I should have been born Harry Truman. He could have been a memorable deodorant salesman, if he weren’t such a forgettable Presid...
Today somebody asked me if I had to lose one of my senses, which would I choose? “Oh my God,” I said, “I’d choose smell.” But of course with that comes the loss of taste too. But who cares? I could eat cheap, flavorless gruel everyday with ...
Out in the open field of flowers, I could feel the sun and see how every golden blossom faced the light... I knew that if I stayed there long enough, the flowers would follow the path of the sun across the sky. It seemed like they knew what they were...
Dear Artie: “The young fellow has disappeared into a dead end. I think the long-necked bastard planned to wind up in Paris and sent him there but he may also have used the underground railroad. Ask your round-heeled contact. Maybe you can find more...
I just got a promotion today! I’m now the branch manager of a local tree. If my father could see me now, the second thing he’d tell me is how proud he is. The first thing he’d say would probably be, “Thank God I’m not blind anymore!
There was no sound, but she felt a movement, a shifting of the air in her room, the warmth of another presence. Isabel opened her eyes. He was there, at the foot of her bed, a single candle in his hand, dressed only in shirtsleeves, waistcoat, and br...
The fatted calf, the best Scotch, the hoedown could all have been his too, any time he asked for them except that he never thought to ask for them because he was too busy trying cheerlessly and religiously to earn them.
I am suddenly comsumed by nostalgia for the little girl who was me, who loved the fields and believed in God, who spent winter days home sick from school reading Nancy Drew and sucking menthol cough drops, who could keep a secret.
That's what I love about poetry. The more abstract, the better. The stuff where you're not sure what the poet's talking about. You may have an idea, but you can't be sure. Not a hundred percent. Each word, specifically chosen, could have a million di...
You read any Greek myths, puppy? The one about the gorgon Medusa, particularly? I used to wonder what could be so terrible that you couldn't survive even at it. Until I got a little older and I figured out the obvious answer. .
With the arrival of electric technology, man has extended, or set outside himself, a live model of the central nervous system itself. To the degree that this is so, it is a development that suggests a desperate suicidal autoamputation, as if the cent...
Well, this is basically the end, so the answers should be in these next few pages. I doubt they will surprise you, but you never know. I don't know how smart or thick you are. You could be Albert Einstein for all I know, or some literary prizewinner,...
The principle victims of British policies are Unpeople—those whose lives are deemed worthless, expendable in the pursuit of power and commercial gain. They are the modern equivalent of the ‘savages’ of colonial days, who could be mown down by B...
She knew she could answer it. She knew how to put one foot in front of the other even when every step hurt. And she knew there was pain in the journey, but there was also great beauty. She’d seen it standing on rooftops and in green eyes and in the...
Did you see that dress?” "I saw the dress.” "Did you like it?” He didn't answer. I took that as a yes. "Am I going to endanger my reputation if I wear it to the dance?” When he spoke, I could barely hear him. "You'll endanger the school.” I...
Honey, I have a feeling he doesn’t think of you as a friend. Have you seen the way he looks at you?” She glanced at him and as if he could feel her gaze, he turned his eyes on her. Soft and hard all at once. “Yeah,” Mel said. “He promised t...
She was clean": no piercings, tattoos, or scarifications. All the kids were now. And who could blame them, Alex thought, after watching three generations of flaccid tattoos droop like moth-eaten upholstery over poorly stuffed biceps and saggy asses?
While he’d been tentatively considering a possible romantic relationship with her, she’d fallen in love with him. He could barely speak. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Mason snorted. “Yeah, that’s right. Come on. You’re almost thirty, you�...
It had replayed in her mind, over and over, growing in importance till it seemed her whole life could be slotted into two categories. Life before the kiss, and life after the kiss. Her life before the kiss had moved step by step ever closer to the pr...
After a moment, he found my neck, kissing the nape, his teeth grazing my skin and causing me to make a small noise very much like a whimper. Before I could take another breath, his lips met mine and I was lost to his touch.
His fingers painted my skin with ruby red patterns of desire. In Keahi’s kiss I could taste the red burn of chili encrusted in the rich sweetness of melted chocolate. I breathed in his scent and it spoke to me of vanilla. The ink of my malu tattoo ...
