They always say the final sense to go is hearing, but touch lasts right 'til the end. Not over the whole body, though; I can't feel Dot's hand in mine, but this fucking diaper itches like blazes. I ... [+]
They always say the final sense to go is hearing, but touch lasts right 'til the end. Not over the whole body, though; I can't feel Dot's hand in mine, but this fucking diaper itches like blazes. I ... [+]
The realtor moves from room to room in silence. Charlotte and I follow, anxiously awaiting his verdict. Through the kitchen, the living room, the study. Upstairs, in and out of bedrooms. He ... [+]
The way Little Miss Perfect tells it, you'd think I was head of a gang of street thugs when I was a kid. We weren't thugs, we were twelve. All we wanted was some prize money, or at least a bit of ... [+]
"This is the last straw," Alma said. She had just opened the mail at the kitchen table. Sitting opposite, Walter peered over the top of his newspaper. "What straw is that?" "It's anothe ... [+]
My father died of heart failure the same Chinese New Year girls began to draw my eye over my ire. I wasn't present for his death but figured us square since he wasn't present for my life. ... [+]
Miranda and Joe met at middle school in Perkins, Oklahoma. Joe was a lumpy kid, not fat so much as unevenly proportioned. If his father hadn't been Deputy Chief of Police, Joe likely would have been ... [+]
Terrydale was a hamlet much too small to be located on any map, and so war came to it as it comes to such places—not through the trampling of armies over its quaint town square, or the burning of ... [+]
The DeliverBot drops the box at my feet and wheezes out a metallic "Happy Birthday" before flying away. At first, I think it's a mistake, because it isn't my birthday. At least, I don't think it is ... [+]
I had just gotten out of the gas station and bought what I usually bought on my little Sunday night trips—a pack of reds, a water bottle (one of the purified waters. Spring water is quite gross to ... [+]
The Mine was due to rise in thirty minutes, and Regge wanted to grab a bowl of ramen planetside before his shift started. He biked through the smoke and stirring bodies and boss-bots buzzing around ... [+]
There's a painting at the Chicago Institute of Art by Gustave Caillebotte titled Paris Street; Rainy Day. I used to go and look at it every Thursday. Thursday, because that's the day with the fewest ... [+]
I picked the rod tip up and swung it back to eleven o'clock, then snapped my wrist. The line flew out over the water, unfurling. At its maximum length, it settled on the water's surface with hardly a ... [+]
"Oh, Geoffrey! Good. You're finally home. Just put it all on the kitchen table. Were you able to get everything I wanted for the party?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"It's just that it's so late, did you run
... [+]
My daughters run across the hard-packed sand, their blonde hair—Maureen's hair—streaming out behind them. They are three little replicas of my wife. As always, the worry grips my heart with icy ... [+]
The master alchemist's voice rang clearly from the stone walls. Anyone hearing it knew immediately that he was Important."The vials are identical," he explained, as if lecturing particularly favored ... [+]
My sister Ellen likes to tell me I am a good plain cook. Rather than be offended by this, I take a pride in getting the basics right. It doesn't matter how fancy you are if it doesn't taste ... [+]
There's a relief that comes with revealing things down to their minutiae; small gasps of relief make space in the bedroom for the proverbial elephant. I do have a good husband. He's the kind that does ... [+]
The wind outside was a constant howl, but the sun would be up in a few hours. Days were calmer, typically. He'd have to climb out of the train tunnel and replace the antenna again if the weather got ... [+]
She ruined my life and all she can think about is wearing khaki. "They make you wear khaki jumpsuits," Mom says. "I look hideous in khaki." Mom, Dad, and I are parked in front of the Federal ... [+]