New Song" For You, Manuelita Inside the Horizon SOMEONE WAS SINGING The voice Is not known WHERE DOES IT COME FROM Among the branches No one is to be seen The moon itself was an ear And one hears no sound However a star unnailed Has fallen into the p...
I am on Vine. It's another early-adopter kind of thing. I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do with it. What's interesting about it is that everybody knows these amazing restrictions we've put on it: I have to use my iPhone, I can only use one...
I couldn't take much more of this. Being the object two men competed for wasn't as glamorous as it sounded in the movies. The two men who both wanted one hundred percent of my time weren't dashing, international playboys. They were undead and surpris...
Choice I needed it like I needed air. Bit no one could hear me. No one could listen. No words. No sound. No voice. I couldn't even dream myself away. Choices were made. None of them mine. At first I wondered if it was hell. And then I knew it was.
I went back to my cabin and lay down on my berth. Everything trembled as if it had a spring at its very center. I could hear the small waves lap-lapping around the ship. They made an unexpected sound, as if a vessel filled with liquid had been placed...
On the day Princess Diana died, a group of students had gathered before a lecture, talking about what they had heard on the radio that morning, repeating “paparazzi” over and over, all sounding knowing and cocksure, until, in a lull, Okoli Okafor...
The sound of his purging next to me, long and deep and often was like a backbeat throughout the night. He's been wrestling with visions of the spirit world, alien landscapes like inverted Photoshop jungle lakes, plants merging into the sky and insect...
On that same tour we ran into a band at Aylesbury Friars, a biggish venue in Oxfordshire, England. They were a four-piece from Ireland called U2. They seemed like nice fellows and they sounded pretty good, but we didn’t keep in touch. They’re pro...
It rubs against me, dipping between my hot lips and makes me whimper with yearning. You remove it dramatically and raise it up, out of my eye line, although I imagine that you are inspecting it. “Yes, definitely a slut, aren’t you?” “Yes, sir...
I had a dream about you. You were the love of my life, if just for one night. I brought your body pure pleasure, and your orgasm sounded exactly like an alarm clock going off.
Spittle flew from Jango’s lips as he shouted at the man in a woman’s voice that sounded like it was made of cyanide and sugar that had been laced with the patter of blood dripping on an abattoir floor, “This is the truth about The Killer, ain�...
I loved the different voices all singing one song, the various tones and qualities, the passing lifts of feeling, rising up and going out forever. Old Man Profet, who was a different man on Sunday, used to draw out the notes at the ends of verses so ...
You have got to do the shiatsu. I had one back home a month ago. Fantastic.” Marisa Finley frowned under her carrot-ginger-turmeric facial mask. “What’s a shiatsu?” It sounded like an unusual breed of dog. "I’m taking my shiatsu to the groo...
I am an old man, and I am dying...Will you remember me, Jacob?" I promise, one day, I will join you, Mr. Gold." Mr. Gold's laughter sounded like a trumpet and brought light to the corners of the room.
You maintain hope for humanity as an infinite skeptic of gossip and slander. In all mankind's desires for entertainment and exaggeration and sensationalism, when it comes to gossip, the individual always sounds worse than he really is. This is why ad...
The Howard Hughes thing hadn’t actually sounded like such a bad deal until about...oh, eight thirty-five this morning. Something about having his ex carry him to the bathroom and help him wash his balls just took all the fun out of becoming an ecce...
Wait a minute,” Sandra said, sounding skeptical. “You were really stuck?” Things were starting to get worse. Her mouth dropped open and she began to laugh—the kind of laugh that would have been music to his ears if she were laughing with him ...
Now here you go again You say you want your freedom Well who am I to keep you down It's only right that you should Play the way you feel it But listen carefully to the sound Of your loneliness Like a heartbeat ... drives you mad In the stillness of r...
They heard rumors of other robot ponies [...] who were left to themselves after their mistresses and masters had grown weary of them, falling into a stupor before their hydraulic limbs squealed and locked, freezing up forever while their circuit boar...
You really love to gossip, don't you?” he asked, wishing she had brought him a glass of wine. “Yes, I suppose I do,” she answered, sounding surprised at the realization. “You think that's why I love reading novels so much?
It’s hard to find words to explain why you love someone, they don’t make words with that much passion. And even if they did, there isn’t a perfect combination of syllables and sounds to create a word strong enough to explain love. Love is just ...
