Fiction, no matter how short or long, is the art form of human yearning.
He’s gonna change the way we farm around here. Make it more like India.
My daddy used to yodel. That’s not all. He'd wear plaid shorts & guinea Ts.
He sees the slight swelling of her breasts in the open collar of her blouse.
Now the ashes were real, the pepper trees reduced to stubs.
I'll pick a black card of luck for you: star, pinkmoon, mirror, ostrich eye.
She had yellow cat eyes that she insisted were also blond.