one ( Read more... )

Roses! Hundreds of them! And they were all for you YOU KNEW THEY HAD TO BE sitting in a pretty vase on your bureau. But who left them? You glance out the window to see if maybe he is still walking outside the door, pacing up and down the street, waiting for you to holler and acknowledge his sweet gesture. But there is no one there but the doorman, ( Read more... )

As if ( Read more... )

"I like to talk to myself," he says, "even when no one's listening. I dunno why. It must be some kind of disorder." He puts down a catalogue and picks up another one. "But you're listening ( Read more... )

The trees look black against this purple-grey sky. More grey than purple. And there's a gold sliver of sunset struggling through all of it and trying to fight the lightning but getting absolutely nowhere-it's no surprise to me. and standing there, in bare feet, in grass, with huge drops of water falling on your cheeks ( Read more... )

It was the second Sunday in June. Christine, undoubtedly a very pretty 15 year old girl, and her 40-something year old mother, stepped into a bookshop. They came out, hands empty, with the exception of an anthology of Franz Kafka’s work. Christine opened the passenger door to her car, which was hot with June sun, and sat on the leather seat. Her ( Read more... )

"atticus! you stupid jerk! not in the city!"
"Can't do anything in the city."

Everyone was laughing.

So i shot everyone.

riotinthecellar.livejournal.com

this is dead.

this is so dead.

I don't really like you.

there's a speck of something or other on the mirror.

really. I don't really like you.

Really.