One morning, Kind-Responsible-No-Baggage-Man isn’t in bed. He saunters in at 10AM with cappuccinos and he’s not wearing his mask. There’s a purple bruise ringed on his cheek like fish lips. “I need to tell you something,” he says.
Helen was found on the sprawling covered balcony that overlooked the valley, swaying from the rafters like a pendant, graceful as she always was. Kate wondered if anyone had seen her from below, floating amongst the potted palms and grasses. Perhaps from a distance she appeared to be dancing.
Roy had never felt stupider. The photograph looked to be from the nineties—the groom carrying his bride over ankle-deep water at a twilight beach, her train hanging just above the surf.
They get off the bridge and weave through the streets, and are soon downtown. Even though Pablo’s only been to that building once, he already remembers how to get there. There’s the same street with the broken lamp, and the mural of a Ferris wheel painted across a brick wall.
Fergus Falls News, August, 1909
J Montgomery hospitalized for insanity… young man’s situation is pitiable as he has been a cripple for a long time. A few days ago he became violent and mustering all his strength, endeavored to kill his mother and sister with an ax.
Owen was circling phonemes on the patio of the coffee shop when the owner stuck her swan neck out the back door and yelled, “White Dodge, you’re being towed!”
Xiao Fan looked up as the words were severed in the air. The scythe was no longer in his hand. Instead it was arcing downwards automatically, except not automatically, because it had been taken deftly from his grip by his elderly father who now slashed at their assailant in blind fury.
Thirty years earlier it never would have occurred. In my day, boys and girls had separate hockey teams. However, the rules changed. Today every team must have at least six girls on the bench for the peewee and bantam age groups.
The game hasn’t suffered. Until hormones strike, the girls are just as fast, strong and aggressive. It does m
They were there to scatter her ashes at the same pond where she had committed canoeicide—deliberately taking the aluminum Grumman out during a thunderstorm and letting fate decide.
“Biracial, I think.”
Luciana glanced up into the mirror to see who had said it, but it was impossible to tell; the chatter of thirty-one, day-tripping blue hairs and silver tops muddled any trace of its origin.