4/07/10 ( Read more... )

Father’s eyelashes cover the house like straw. They fall whenever he cries. The other townspeople take them. It’s said that if you want the sleep of bears in winter, you must use Leo Rowling’s eyelashes as bedding ( Read more... )

i need to update more often. here's something ( Read more... )

8th Grade
Whatever love is I felt it when I saw her. Inside I felt all those chemical reactions that we all equate with love, affection. At that moment I knew I wanted her. I was fourteen. It was eighth grade. I had just moved from Massachusetts to Pittsburgh, from a public school to a private one.
In the past I had fallen in what I called like-an ( Read more... )

So, to add more stress to my life, I have decided to do a story a week for a year. Doing this along with me will be Drew. So starting now, a story a week. Each story should be four pages in length at least. So, here it goes.

I have no story to tell, but here it is.  So, I was walking down this street.  And it was this street because there is no other street, only this one.  So, as I said, I was walking down this street-and it was a nice enough street lined with buildings of a typical sort, and businesses, and covered with pavement-and I saw a man with tattered clothes ( Read more... )

Oscar was sitting on a bench waiting for the bus; he was getting out of paying for gas.  The air was humid and Oscar was wearing a t-shirt with no distinct logo on it.  The bench he was sitting on was blue and had hexagonal holes cut into it.  The clear plastic box around him had some advertisement on it, but the ad lacked force and sank into the ( Read more... )

Bayonets burst into the buddy at my right.  Holy fuck; holy fuck, why did I sign up for this, I think.  The red sun beats down upon me and my troops and this desolate, derelict, destitute island that’s floating in the middle of two opposing homelands ( Read more... )

    None of this is true.
    I once was a pilot.  Flew in the war, ya know.  Personally, I shot down twenty-four German bogeys.  Almost got the Medal of Honor, almost I did.
    All of my friends are drunk or dead now, all of my friends from the war.  They and I used to have gun fights with barrels blazing; now we have bar fights with bottles [and ( Read more... )

    We spoke, for days, for nights, for years, about everything, nothing, the great question about life, the universe, and everything; and in the end, at the dial tone, I fell in love with that voice on the other line, softly speaking ideas, principles, and possibilities.  I fell in love with the intonation of her voice-trying to convince and sound ( Read more... )