The door opens with a rusted jingle, and an animatronic Santa insults my moral virtue three times. Ho, ho, ho.
The lines are careful. They reveal he pays attention. People don’t think he does, because he daydreams and skips class and neglects his homework, but when I see his drawings, I know they’re wrong.
The moon is fat, but half of her is missing. A ruler-straight line divides her dark side from her light. She hangs low over the bustling Castro, noticeably earlier than the night before. Autumn is com...
The room is full of adult Honeywells talking about the things that Honeywells always talk about, which is to say everything, horses and houses and God and grouting, tanning salons and—of course—theate...
The senses have their limits, and we can never know how short they fall in revealing to us the truth of a vision, a scent, a sound.
The towers are illuminated in blue and white lights. They're more disjointed than the buildings in Paris;they have no relationship. They're just stupid rectangles designed to be taller, better than ot...
The translator, no matter how true he thinks he's staying to the text, still brings his own life experiences and opinions to the decisions he makes. Maybe not consciously, but every time a choice is m...
The wind rattles the panes, and the lights buzz softly in the hall. He sleeps soundly.How long has it been since he's had a decent night's rest? There's another uncomfortable tug on my heart.Why do I...
There are few things worse than having feelings for someone you shouldn't, and I don't like where my thoughts were headed.
This is where our story started, he said. You were so … I mean, their opinions were completely irrelevant to you. It’s like while everyone else was listening to one song, you were listening to another...
Thr rareness, the specialness, of North. Of this night. She wished it could last forever. (It's a yuletide miracle, Charlie Brown)
To be good at anything you have to practice.
Umbrellas are so small and sad and easy to forget.
Victor Noir. He was a journalist shot by Pierre Bonaparte, St. Clair says, as if that explains anything. He pulls The Hat up off his eyes. The statue on his grave is supposed to help...fertility.His w...
Wanna go to the movies? They're showing at Le Champo. Just because I haven't gone out doesn't mean I haven't pored over the glorious They're showing what? And I'm not gonna tell you how badly you jus...
We are kissing like crazy. Like our lives depend on it. His tongue slips inside my mouth, gentle but demanding, and it’s nothing like I’ve ever experienced, and I suddenly understand why people descri...
What are you doing here?He takes a deep breath. I came for you.And how on EARTH did you know I was up here?I saw you. He pauses. I came to make another wish,and I was standing on Point Zero when I saw...
What'd I tell you about musicians? That bad boy type will only break your heart.
When it's right, it's simple.
Where in the bloody hell did that come from? asks the other person behind the counter. Or more precisely, on top of the counter, where her ridiculously attractive, English-accented boyfriend is perche...
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