Seth's parents are much older in this story. It doesn't matter how old they really are, or if they were ever young, only that their faces resemble peach pits. Seth knows this and does not look; he can only imagine those same expressions worn thin. Afterwards, he sits in his Miata, staring at the bleach white house, the black shutters, windchimes ( Read more... )

As for you my friend, why not coax the snake from its hole? Why not dump the contents of your pockets (string, lint, and hook) on this table? No need for the stuttering; your disease is apparent, having shuddered up the back of your neck to choke you. No need for a Sunday brunch or a joke to kill the nerves. The others are off on their hairless ( Read more... )

In the silence of cupboards, in the memory of flowers, sweet in the bottom of teacups, everywhere: Miranda in the solace of soft sheets. Tuesday at the circus, mother in a blue skirt, with handbag woven from wheat, hair rolled in half moons, funnel cakes for a cold nickel. The Penguin Boy performs Shakespeare on a Beach Ball! The Sword Swallower ( Read more... )

Inside the dance is another dance. The outer dance is called "Penelope's Last Parade". Majestic, flowing, it makes you think of leather interiors. The inner dance is almost not a dance at all. It is tentatively called "The Impish Tornado versus Fiona's Period". The dancer, Elise, has no hair, and her bones are falling out as a result. She ( Read more... )

Previously in Genesis...Our bodies are packed together now. The city is oblivious, almost like a constantly ringing alarm clock. The walls are 4x4s. Tomorrow we fly to St. Augustine. Frank isn't happy with our performance lately. Part of the crew has dropped off. It's no longer any fun, our paper wings only for show. And so many hands reaching up ( Read more... )

This is a standard boy-meets-girl story. The magnets have reversed their poles on the refrigerator door. Still no food inside. The hard-boiled eggs have hatched and slipped away. Tomorrow I'll be sorry I ate your breadcrumbs. I steal to bed with a bag of them, and the rats are scratching at the walls again with restless claws. When I look for them ( Read more... )

Jason told me he replaced the school mascot with a bunch of neon roses. The friend who helped him was promptly prosecuted and given a life sentence. "I need your help so they don't find me," he said ( Read more... )

Q: What's the most hurtful thing you can do to a man? A: Gnaw on his testicles. That has something to do with mermaids, but I forget what. They both remind me of the phrases "salt water" and "come up for air.” Mermaids have these killer stares which enables them to win in any staring contest. I once dated a mermaid. That was sufficiently ( Read more... )

Was that me? Playing those Nick Drake songs on the guitar at age four. My voice sounds small. They called me a child prodigy (I didn't know it at the time). My paintings sold for thousands of dollars. One was a silhouette of a man getting up off a chair in front of a window. It sold for a fortune; my parents bought a new house with the money; then ( Read more... )

I designed some kind of Super-Walmart on the computer at work. It was huge, and to my surprise they built it by the end of the week. I went to visit it and George W. Bush was there and he greeted me. He asked me how long it took me to design the thing and I said "a week" and he was in awe. Then he arranged for pictures to be taken from outside ( Read more... )