macserp

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryPeeling LA: Part of an Urban Artichoke Series macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryTony and Dawn macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryTony and Dawn macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryMy Endemic macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryNotes From A Reluctant Love Nest macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryPutting On the Gleam macserp013 years 1 day ago
StorySnorkeler Down, High Adventure in the Yucatan Peninsula macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryRiddle macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryNotes On a Good Time macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryRevenge macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryMiracle Body macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryThe Rotten Bridge, A Gypsy Love Story (novel excerpt) macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryInterstate 40, Poem (Cycles I-V for Joe M.) macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryHappenstance macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryHeliotrope macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryFade macserp013 years 1 day ago
StoryThe Undoing macserp217 years 3 months ago

My stories

Chapter 7 from The Rotten Bridge, A Gypsy Love Story

Just then the door is ripped open and the curtain pulled back in one practiced motion. The clanking night rattles wall to wall and the conductor's gray bulk dims the light in our cabin.

Chapter 6 from The Rotten Bridge, A Gypsy Love Story

But there was Melodie with her gold rims tossed aside, grieving for it, begging me, all set to swallow my head if I didn't comply, and let me remind you that we were laying in the scree and sand and broken glass and cigarette butts of a civilization gone mad...

Chapter 5 from The Rotten Bridge, A Gypsy Love Story

"Even those killers over there, they like the Beach Boys and they don't even know what they are hearing. It makes them smile. They can forget for a minute all the horrible things they have told me about their lives. Sometimes they will even start dancing and I will catch them and say 'ah ha you bastards, you like it- you are dancing and you don't even know it' and they will shuffle back to that machine embarrassed to feel happy.

Chapter 4 from The Rotten Bridge, A Gypsy Love Story

I descend the broad basalt steps into the Viminale, past yesterday and the day before, and stop for a drink from one of the hydrants that flow continuous sweet water from the aqueduct. I let it roll on my tongue as I walk in the shade of two thousand years.

Chapter 3 from The Rotten Bridge, A Gypsy Love Story

"So there is your mother, she said in that music of hers that is like a hidden stream in the woods, "and the priest, and your teacher and the butcher - but no one is supposed to think anything of it. "And you, what do you think? I asked, pressing in closer. "It is very fun, especially for the children, and innocent. We eat cake and play games and sing and then we all bathe in the lake - just like any celebration really, except we don't wear anything.

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