When I was young and gawky I rode a bicycle everywhere I went and defaulted to happiness. In spite of midnight beatings for breaking my glasses, the threat of nuclear war, and revelations about the specter of a silent spring, my disposition remained relentlessly sunny.
Read MoreThere’s an animal outside my window. It’s looking at me. I was just doing nothing here at the kitchen table, scrolling through shit on my phone, trying to beat this insomnia, crying again for some unknown reason, and then HEY!
Read MoreOn her first day of her new job a man wearing a kilt and smoking a cigarette showed Isobel Bennett to her cubicle. She briefly fantasized she was being recruited by the C.I.A., but it was probably some sort of not-for-profit. She didn’t care what they did as long as it wasn’t a scam.
Read MoreOf the dozen buildings slouched riverward in Near Haven shipyard, only Stearns Fiberglass let on that it might be occupied. The bait company, canvas supply, machine shops, and all else sat dark under their corrugated aluminum roofs, while at Stearns a floodlight watched the empty yard and a dull blue flicker lit the windows.
Read MoreNo one does what he does. No one does what he does where he does it or within the sound of his shouting voice. No one does for anyone what he does for everyone who wants him to do it. No one.
Read MoreEmmeline felt it finally, that wonderful expansion that came with a couple drinks. The spaces between her words. The width of her smile. She felt it all, along with the gaze of the man on the other side of the yard, looking down his beer bottle at her as he drank.
Read MoreLife was better before I could Speak with Dead. When I could only Cure Light Wounds once, twice a day? Those were the best times. Little miracles. That’s where it’s at.
Read MoreAnaza dies on June 2nd. But on that day, he will walk into Aunty Orahachi’s bar and buy drinks for young men who are tired of looking for white collar jobs, who cut grass in homes where all the virile adult men have gone off to big cities…
Read MoreThere are some of you, and you know who you are, who will never set foot inside a robot whorehouse. There are some of you, and I won’t name names, who have decided that places like At Your Leisure, no, they’re just not for you.
Read MoreBurns pauses, lets the sock drop onto his loafer, and lays down on the bed. He can hear Sarah in the bathroom, the shower shutting off and the water pick starting up.
Read MoreYou told me I was crazy —yes, you did; don’t you remember when we were traveling through North Thailand on the sleeper; I could hear you rolling over on the bottom bunk — “Listen,” you said, “I think you might need help” — and I couldn’t even respond; I was so mad
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