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Petsexpand_moreYou walk into your gramma’s kitchen only once for the last time.
I only divine the cat’s location when I hear its small cough.
I was the man in her life. I know I’m different now. Now I’m a bird.
He’s walking loopy, so I know he’s been had something besides beer.
Their leader is a badly wounded boy in need of wounding others.
Praise the ease of it: how simple it is to tell the dog he loves her.
A romp through everyday dramas with Hemingway, Kafka, and more!
It’s been a rainy, relatively windless fall, the aspen leaves clinging.
She knew Jim would be a terrible husband. They’d murder each other.
Just sugar cubes and a crop for you. Salt licks to smart the tongue.
She takes her shirt at the waist and pulls it up slowly: her hips, belly, bra.
When we wake up, the five windows and the French door are full of light.
I’m trying to decide if I’m too cold to be curious, when the box meows.
Why don’t we just get drunk and walk down the middle of Fifth Avenue.
His mooseness was implacable, the light behind him from the trees.
It’s like having your parents in the room. Patrolling our sleep, our sex life.
Their house is what I see when I look up from my notebook.
Because grass sprouts from the stump’s rings like tiny soldiers.
When one of the Baxters yelled, “Hey, Turd,” we all turned our heads.
Tobias Wolff
Both dogs were barking now—their barking urgent, hysterically pitched.
He could smell the bear’s breath, feel the hot huff against his ear.
No one is dead, but you should come back. See what’s become of us.
From the roof, my husband observed daily a man and a woman having sex.
I hope you weren’t reverse-bookmarking everyone.
Sue Williams tells a pitch-perfect story outloud, about devotion.
In time the squirrel who was my friend is my friend no longer.
Each harbored a sense that a family of three was not a real family.
