albert took the train a stop too far so that he could walk up on his house from the other direction. he hadn't done this before; not only was the walk farther, but it was also slightly uphill and a sight seedier than his normal walk down the bustlings of the usual thoroughfare. this was the type of thing he'd noticed much more since he'd grown ( Read more... )

his neighborhood was dirty, she made a note not to wear sandals here anymore. her pointer and thumb toes pinched the thong between them, pinning the bottoms to her sole, squeezing out any foreign detritus trying to make its way between her and her shell of clothing. she brushed her hands up and down her arms one at a time, shooing away the ( Read more... )

( a crazed look enters his eye when he walks in the room, something that wasn't there before he realized who was present. )

i am standing in the middle of a room that is strewn with dirty clothes, papers, food wrappers, empty boxes, and hideous dark pictures, sculptures of paper bellowing from the white walls. the walls look hot, dim with the amber saturation of my lamp, something stolen from someone who lived here before. ladybugs grouch at my window, flitting their ( Read more... )

he lit the match, and she watched his ( pupils. )

albert wheezed on the train from laughing too much, but it was just that sort of phone call. you're either laughing because you can't understand what's being said or because you want to cover up the silence. there's not much of a market anymore for genuine laughter, at least not on the phone ( Read more... )

tanned red bodies walking backwards on marble tiles, their mouths practicing how to make a catcall for the first time. these boys are island boys, their law is their own, and they take it wherever they go. baseball is their national sport, but politics is in a close second place. the boys speak of their leaders as they do about celebrities; ( Read more... )

his favorite part of each day was the very first moment, when the flames behind his eyes began to dance. the moment when his dreams stopped moving and laid still, frightened of the dawn about to break over them. thomas' waking mind worked too often like the clocks he spent his days repairing. in his small room over the shop he worked in, he ( Read more... )

( put my hands above my head, she said )

( maybe the night seems so dark because the day is much too bright (three) )