Tag: author
member name: Charles Lennox
|
June 22, 2006 06:09 PM EDT --
He found the book at a garage sale. It cost one dollar.
To his amazement, the story was his own, foretelling who he would marry and how they fell in love. Every detail came true.
He secluded himself . . . more
|
|
August 09, 2006 02:27 PM EDT --
They stood in the rain on an empty street.
"No one, Kelly, means more to me than you."
To him it wasn't a mere line, some commonplace phrase. He meant every word.
"Cut," someone . . . more
|
|
April 07, 2006 12:33 PM EDT --
A man imagined a place he'd rather be and sketched it on paper. One day, while walking, he found the place he created. He sat on an ice bench under a tree covered with fruit, the wind scented of roses. . . . more
|
|
April 28, 2006 02:20 PM EDT --
Fortune cookie says, You'll find love today.
I sit in a corner, a dark tall corner of a dark tall building. Will my lover be fat, deformed, untidy? A dripping faucet? Other people join me. We build . . . more
|
|
June 29, 2006 02:32 PM EDT --
Becky calls him 'Cowboy' because he wears a Stetson and for another reason she keeps closed within her mouth.
"Come over," Cowboy says.
"Okay," she speaks into the cell phone. . . . more
|
|
June 30, 2006 03:39 PM EDT --
She remembered when the dog somehow climbed the chicken wire fence while tied to a tree and hung itself. Daddy wrapped the dog in a towel and dropped it in the lake as she watched.
Her hands released . . . more
|
|
July 19, 2006 01:33 AM EDT --
Dear Diary,
Found out from Jennie that Kirsten's going to keep it. What a mistake. Her life's over and the Bastard's already moved on to Karen Whore-ski. If she asks, I'll tell her "Don't". . . . more
|
|
August 04, 2006 04:54 PM EDT --
The picture did the son no good. But the name.
Two prostitutes knew the man he was looking for. By the wharf, one said. No good nothing, the other said.
Abandoned industrial building. The man lay under . . . more
|
|
April 27, 2006 05:07 PM EDT --
The man woke up without his left hand. He did not immediately realize a piece of himself, there the night before, had gone missing. Lying in bed, daylight cracking through blinds and touching the wood . . . more
|
|
June 05, 2006 04:48 PM EDT --
My roommate finds an animal on the street and wants to have it as his pet.
"Pets are not allowed in the complex," I tell him, . . . more
|
|
May 04, 2006 11:56 AM EDT --
For the avid writer searching for a listing of the many available literary magazines to submit their work or browse through, check out the website of poet David Hernandez and his links page .
more
|
|
July 05, 2006 06:42 PM EDT --
She never meant to pry. She smiled and the man's wrinkled face bended up to smile back. He closed the journal and buried it in a pocket and watched the bay fill with rain until his stop. Her stop was . . . more
|
|
July 10, 2006 02:08 PM EDT --
they were to fall in love.
he would say something and she would laugh, and their time from then on would involve much laughter and little crying. but he walked past and she watched the door close behind . . . more
|
|
July 19, 2006 08:03 PM EDT --
Husband on hotel bed; wife's reflection in bathroom mirror brushes hair.
Husband says, "I'm running late."
"Go," Wife's reflection says. "I'll handle check out." . . . more
|
|
September 01, 2006 11:18 AM EDT --
I'm in the fiction section when I hear something clang and roll across the floor. My eyes follow the sound and there, at the foot of the bookcase, on its side, is a wedding band. I check my left hand . . . more
|
|
July 12, 2006 04:00 PM EDT --
The boy has no chest.
God scooped it up with His spoon, the boy's father says, in public, laughing.
The boy exercises, day and night.
One night, the boy and father fight, over words. After his beating, . . . more
|
|
August 23, 2006 07:14 PM EDT --
She comes in almost everyday, the redhead, pushing a baby carriage, strolling the aisles over and over like a bewildered tourist. Her index finger is pressed to her lips. Shushing the paintbrushes, paint, . . . more
|
|
December 14, 2006 06:18 PM EST --
1
There is the neighborhood street, and at the end of each driveway is a mailbox, an overflowing trash bin, and a dead Christmas tree slouching against the trash bin. All the Christmas . . . more
|
|
June 12, 2008 11:57 PM EDT --
Brandi Wells is an author I've been noticing a lot lately. Mostly she writes short short stories. She's in graduate school and is getting published like crazy. I should be jealous, but that would . . . more
|
|
April 14, 2006 11:40 AM EDT --
…and she'll respond the same way. Then they'll avoid one another, not touching or being in the same room for long. When they talk it's: How was work? Busy, you? The same. After . . . more
|
|
|
|