Didn't even stop to look the dude in the eyes before shoving him off the bridge. The coat was fancy, that's all that mattered. Resale, maybe two hundred. But I saw it happen, and I followed this scumbag as he walked three miles to a Brooklyn pawn shop. He walks in, and four minutes later he walks out looking happy. Calls someone on his mobile. I follow. The guy he meets in a subway terminal gives him pills in exchange for the coat money. I follow him home. Get in the same elevator. Follow him down the hall. Before he...
The cut was more jagged than she would have liked, but the little bastards were always squirming while she decapitated them. Still, the look of terror in its wide, lifeless eyes was one of the best she'd seen yet.
She headed back to the cottage; she'd have to dip the head in tar and put it on top of a stake along with the rest on the perimeter of her garden. So far, the warning had done little to deter the pests from stealing her fruit and vegetables - food that she and her little brother needed to live comfortably...
Springtime. In yogateacherland that means detoxes. Twist. The liver is on the right side of your body. Or is that correct? Maybe it is the left. Either way, cross that right leg over your left leg. Settle those seatbones on your mat. You can put your left leg out straight if you need to. Now, right arm out behind you- straight spine - left elbow to the outside of your right knee.
And twist.
With each breath drawing in and up, rotating towards the back of the room, towards the other side. All those dark wintery things that have been...
Her cheeks were as pink as her dress, blotched with red that matched the little bows that tightly held her blonde hair up in two ridiculous pony-tails that resembled palm trees. Her mother did the dog's hair like that as well. Jonathan always wondered how someone could want a second Maltese instead of a daughter.
Was he being unfair? Probably. It was something he slung at Marie as their last fight as a married couple wound down. That fight he'd carried on with such spirit convinced there would be break-up hate sex, but that shot at her parenting skills effectively...
Snitches Die Heroically, the Rest Burn in Hell
October 2002. As the flames ripped apart the body of a five year old girl, burning her skin into a mass of molten cellular plastic, boiling the red and white blood cells that traversed her barely formed veins, charring her fragile, yet to be developed bones, and exterminating the intelligence, wit, and beauty of a child who never had the chance to be; our generation looked on and cheered. While the firefighters rushed to squelch the blaze and douse the embers of dying justice, we arrogantly proclaimed the righteousness of this row-home...
We were out of gin. The night was off to a great start. How was I suppose to get blackout drunk within an hour. I had a case of beer but none were cold. I left the apartment and walked over to the liquor store. I'd eventually get there and then I'd return and get drunk.
Why the hell was it all the way down the block. Not to complain, but that was actually great. It kind of was a problem when week after week the same routine went down.
"If you just waited, we could've went to a bar"...
, Nevada. The most nondescript town imaginable. Even the dust had dust. The air was dry, and it was hardly ever cloudy.
A convenience store with a broken sign in this dull town would prove to be the battleground. Mr. Block arrived first, slowly perusing the landscape, planning ahead, preparing for the confrontation. Satisfied, he entered the store to buy a candy bar.
Mr. Arc came next. He'd been following Block his whole life, in a chase that had ruined countless others, never gaining ground, never getting closer. Until today.
Sparks flew from his hands as he increased the voltage...
We were eating tuna fish sandwiches on the green outside the palace. The sandwiches were soggy but we ate them anyway. The sky and the water were dusk. "It's dusky," I said. "No," she replied.
We ate the soggy sandwiches as we stared at the sky. When you're lost in thought, your sense of taste dims. Staring at the sky and down at the water, I could feel my taste buds run up to my eyes. I could almost taste the sky.
I could tell you I tasted the water, but it just tasted like water. Soggy.
They gathered in the woods, but that was not enough to save them, as they were mistaken for trees, cut down and shipped to a lumber mill.
One of them was fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to be made into thick planks; most of the rest were sadly torn apart into sawdust and mulch. But that one continued to live, in great pain, as he was violently sawed and assembled into a large, polished grandfather clock.
They attached to him some cold, foreign bits of metal that moved jarringly. The ticking of the gears against his aching frame was unceasing; day...
"Tell me what she looks like," said the young man.
The young man had managed to find a box to sit on. He was resting with legs crossed at the ankles. He peered straight ahead, smiling slightly, like he was the only one in on the joke. But of course he couldn't see anything because he was blind. You could have told that just by looking at him, the way he was faking concentration on the scene before him with that sadly unfocused gaze.
The older man, who was much shorter, stood only a few steps away, with his hands...