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Total Prose: 59 | Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6
Frank sighed heavily as traffic picked up again. He shook himself from reverie and followed the flow of the still slow-moving traffic in front of him. He looked at the road signs and felt, at first, relieved and then indifferent when he discovered that his exit was only three miles away. He inched forward and saw, up ahead, the whirling lights of an ambulance and the glare of streetlights moving ... Continue Reading

Posted: December 12th, 2005

Her tongue licks like flames. Her mouth, eyes, fingers, hips, legs, cunt are a kiln that bakes me into form. Before her I was like cookie dough in the bowl. I remember looking up and seeing her face, still and pale like the moon, shining above me. I was undifferentiated, just another glob in the greater mass, until she spooned me out and squeezed me between her long, hot fingers. Then, I was ... Continue Reading

Posted: December 7th, 2005

Frank straightened his shoulders and pressed his back firmly against the seat cushion. He put his hands on the wheel at ten and two o'clock like they had taught him to do in drivers education class. Every time Frank felt distracted or had to yank the wheel to one side to catch himself from crossing the line, he would straighten up in a similar fashion, tightly grab the steering wheel and think, "T ... Continue Reading

Posted: November 26th, 2005

The fourth installment of my entry for National Novel Writing Month, the hard way. Self-doubt and that sardonic internal editor grow more verbose as I become nearly tongue-tied. The mundane takes on a stunning vitality. I sit down at the computer and realize the kitchen sink is dirty. But, I really should wash my hair right this moment. But, I am a hack ... As always, please cross your finger ... Continue Reading

Posted: November 21st, 2005

November is National Novel Writing Month, and after a few days into it, I'm not sure if I can complete the 50,000 word minimum. Even with a plot worked out, I tend to meander. In any case, keep your fingers crossed for me. If you're interested in joining this frenzied race, check out the Nanowrimo site. And if you're in the contest, add me as a buddy here A few weeks past and Mimi had started ... Continue Reading

Posted: November 14th, 2005

November is National Novel Writing Month, and after a few days into it, I'm not sure if I can complete the 50,000 word minimum. Even with a plot worked out, I tend to meander. In any case, keep your fingers crossed for me. If you're interested in joining this frenzied race, check out the Nanowrimo site. And if you're in the contest, add me as a buddy here The ride to town was short and Mimi ... Continue Reading

Posted: November 11th, 2005

November is National Novel Writing Month, and I decided to join up a week late, as it had slipped my mind. The goal is to create a 50,000 word novel by November 30th. In order to keep myself motivated, I'll be posting installments of my novel, Crocodile Tears, here at Beatbots. If you're interested in joining this frenzied race, check out the Nanowrimo site. And if you're in the contest, add m ... Continue Reading

Posted: November 8th, 2005

A Habit of Intimacy- Part One It was a cold November evening and the raindrops were nearly frozen. They fell with sharp pinpoint clicks against the windshield and Frank pressed his weight a little harder on the gas pedal without noticing any significant acceleration. He leaned forward and, pressing both palms to the steering wheel, squinted into the streaky grey distance ahead. His glasses w ... Continue Reading

Posted: October 5th, 2005

Where the shit is that cd? I need to drive all the way out to Virginia, the cesspool of car-commuting culture, this morning, and Iíll be damned if I donít need the right tunes to cut through those cell-phone yapping, sleek sedan-driving yuppies of Arlington and Fairfax Counties. Something to get the adrenaline flowing, with some hooks, some guitar heroics. That copy of At The Drive-Inís Relatio ... Continue Reading

Posted: July 1st, 2005

I make brief backward accusatory side glances into the mirror and peer out of the corners of my eyes at my haggard reflection, at my bent back and my hair clustered with dirt and sweat. I remember when I stared straight ahead into the mirror, thankful for my flush face and it soft curves and smooth lines. I stared, then, into relief that I had not yet tattered, that I had not yet perished and woul ... Continue Reading

Posted: June 6th, 2005

Total Prose: 59 | Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6
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