Saturday, April 30, 2011

The dog sniffed the blade of grass like a snooty wine connoisseur at a tasting.

Friday, April 29, 2011

The words came hard and fast and had escaped his lips with barely a glimmer of realization from his overwrought brain.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

They invited the stranger—a man with dark, cold eyes—in out of the storm.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

The bone-jarring ride was half as bad as the back-breaking accommodations.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

I watched as he made it on to the train and away as I continued to pull on my jacket sleeve that was stuck in the turnstile.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Sunday, April 24, 2011

The air felt like it did on the night before the storm, an electric snap and crackle hung in the wind and there was a rich humidity that one could almost taste.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

With the closing of the show, the geek was left to perform his act in the mirror, his eyes the only audience.

Friday, April 22, 2011

There seemed to be a set of scales in her life that only allowed for so much joy before something would come along to drag her back to earth.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Cavalier to the end, Bertrand shook the hand of each of the members of his firing squad.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

At 50, the Rock n' Roll lifestyle began to bore Desmond who turned back to his first passion, cultivating roses.

Monday, April 18, 2011

His belly rumbling, Phillip spent the last of his money on the entrance fee to the museum.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Julia and Julio's conversations were always self-reflective and their favorite word 'me.'

Saturday, April 16, 2011

The banjo was out of tune and the home-made liquor sharp and bitter.

Friday, April 15, 2011

To this day they still had no idea how the chicken ended up in their Attic.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

The church's unity was fraying more and more each week as the the two pastors, once married to one-another, began to craft their sermons to point out each other's flaws.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

The scenery flew by, brown grass, teetering houses and abandoned factories blending into a solid mass, a memory of desolation.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Sunday, April 10, 2011

The twittering of the birds began to take on an urgency that soon rose to a scream.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

"My granddad, he raised pigeons, this is back in Brooklyn," said Sal, sitting in the barber chair, "and he loved to cook so when he was making gravy for pasta he would throw a couple of em' in there and you know, I swear it tasted like chicken."

Friday, April 8, 2011

Giorgio's heart jumped when he uncovered what appeared to be a human head, but as he stumbled closer he realized what at first looked to be gray flesh was in fact stone.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

"I don't know why you're always looking down your nose at me," the prostitute told the banker as they lay in bed, "since we're in the same business."

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

As I walked out, the light was blinding and the air almost too cool and fresh after my years spent under fluorescent light and breathing the stale chemical-cleaner laden variety.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Our joy was trampled, our hopes spit on and dreams laughed at by the men in power.

Monday, April 4, 2011

The clanking sound of the closing jail cell stuck with Ray until the end.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Jill hated to watch old white people dance, especially if they had been drinking, finding it both disturbing and mesmerizing.

Saturday, April 2, 2011