Marla placed it on the sand. It paddled away from the booms of crashing waves, not toward them. She picked it up and turned it to face the water’s edge, just a few yards away. She refused to leave until the turtle entered the edge of the water, and until she watched the undertow pull the dark smudge of an infant into the start of something underwater and invisible.
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Putting this story (and myself) to bed. The submitting fun begins tomorrow.
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Roberto Bolaño’s Antwerp is the bestseller of our Memorial Day weekend so far, oddly enough....
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Elaine: Wait up!
Jerry: You see? Never be late for a plane with a girl. ‘Cuz a girl runs like a... -
Elaine: Bah bah baaah, Boo doo bah bah bah, boo doo waaaah, waah, waaaah…
Jerry: Hey, could you... -
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is it a small Moleskine? noooo, you ignorant fool…it’s my new iPhone case. it has…like…card slots...
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"Little Things," by Raymond Carver
Little Things by Raymond Carver
Early that day the...
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by David Foster Wallace. An essay that is dear to my heart.
For...
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“I’d like to go out in the front yard and shout something. “None of this is worth it!” That’s what...
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I’ve crossed some kind of invisible line. I feel as if I’ve come to a place I never thought...
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