When questioned, Blac confessed to being an artist, claimed to have loved his victims, which he considered his creations whom he desired to preserve in a more perfect, permanent state.… Continue Reading
A dead man’s bullet holes leak feathers that form a vortex under a police helicopter’s rotor wash, making the scene resemble an eerie snow globe.… Continue Reading
After I heard Carolyn’s brother died I figured I should buy her some flowers. I mean, if my brother got high and fell in front of a train I’d want some flowers.… Continue Reading
“Dago,” Bill said, what do’yer think?”
“I think I’ll put it in the creek,” Vic said. “Don’t you worry your pink cheeks.”
“Eat shit,” the pitcher said. “I think I’ll put it in your mom.”… Continue Reading
There was no reason to take it. No reason to stay and no reason to leave. She would wake in the blue dawn light and know that he was gone and that he had taken something from her which she would not get back. Maybe that was the reason.… Continue Reading
It’s a sorry-ass way to go through life, being sorry that you take up space.… Continue Reading
All fiction is very much about time. But we have awareness of only the things that have transpired in our own lives. Our memories are deeply flawed. So there is a kind of dream machine that’s taking place while you’re trying to explain what you’ve seen in the world and your imagination does get involved.… Continue Reading
I used to think toughness was armor. Now I think it’s trust—running straight at the world believing it might love you back.… Continue Reading
We will plant a church and that church will grow like a flower I don’t know the name for. But we are not gardeners. We carry weapons fashioned against The Enemy. We are soldiers of God.… Continue Reading
He’d promised himself, promised his therapist, he’d stop letting anger be the first thing out of his mouth. But here he was, a grown man, sober for three months, crying over a clogged drain while his son watched him unravel like cheap plumbing.… Continue Reading