A New Kind of Literary Pulse

How did they first meet? By the revolving door, on the beach side. It was like a scene in a Lelouch film. Being a person who hums shoobedoobedoo every time I walk into our dear old hotel, I was ... [+]

With his arm outstretched and his shoulders relaxed, he concentrates on the target. No rush. Shooting with a bow and arrow is a delicate art. He remembers the words of his trainer, "You have to be ... [+]

7:23 a.m.
Since September, every 7:23 a.m. has been the same. First, the dull sound of an engine, then the headlights piercing the dark. The bus slows, then stops. The doors open in front of me ... [+]

We were lying on the beach. Marie, who felt the cold less than I did, had gone for a swim after our picnic. She'd come back to lie next to me, without drying off, enjoying the hot sun on her wet ... [+]