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We talked through the normal adult talk. Work, kids (hers), where we lived, how we were doing. I didn't mention my girlfriend, and she only said, "Oh, Jon's Jon," when I asked. We talked some more, but then we talked less. That was the way it had always gone:(more)
Before moving North, I pictured how life would be there, and began to look forward to it. From the red-black pulse of a dirty life, I pictured how things could be different.

My life was night shifts, insulting rents, weariness and addiction. But I could picture how lif(more)
"You mean to say you came all this way just to stop this short?"

"I suppose. But--"

"But? But what? 'The conditions weren't right', 'you don't have inspiration', 'the pills make you soft, happy, and pliable.'"

"No, it's not that."

"Then what is it? What's(more)
It pulses and twists and rolls and squirms. Flummoxing, he finds it. Vexing. The brain's chords plucked and pulled out of order, out of tune. Unfocused and wild it wanders through, twisting its way between his ears and down his spine.
As always he limped ever after what had come before. Stunted, hungry, grasping onto what little he could if only for a moment before it slipped away back into an ether that he can't hope to pierce.

He fell to his knees and waited.
Gnats flickered about the man's head like sparks off a crackling, spitting fire. Runnels of sweat escaped his brow. He pawed at the moisture with a dirty rag that blackened the creases of his face.

Around him, fresh-faced tourists squawked. Sipping tea, buying boots, browsing their way throug(more)
"That's nice of you," she said, almost dismissively as she tapped her fingers on her keyboard waiting impatiently for the reports to load.

"I didn't do it to be _nice_, I did it because it was needed."

"But it was still a favor to them, wasn't it?"(more)
They are the experts, and yet you will be the one to suffer in the end. For they know all, but never what's best.
"What are we?" Steve murmurs, one morning after waking up in between Nancy and Jonathan yet again.

Nancy is already wide awake, the early bird of the trio. She's scratching Steve's back with one hand, and when he turns his head to look at her he sees her(more)
Murdering someone in cold blood.  A primer:  

Why murder?  This question will have as many answers as there are people murdered and those doing the murdering.  In a sense, the question of why is beside the point.   What’s important is that one has decided, for r(more)
People will do a lot of things for a promise alone. Or at least for the faint shimmer of hope a promise offers. The fall-through never seems as real as the prospect of success.  Funny, that. Perhaps it has to do with the kinds of stories we tell.
Jonathan likes when people say his name.

He doesn't know why. He doesn't really like being known-and honestly doesn't like most people knowing his name.
Before Atsushi even managed to open his mouth to warn him, the pink bubble burst in Akutagawa's face. It released a fine powder into the air and Akutagawa kitten-sneezed, which was weirdly adorable coming from him, before resuming his usual deadpan expression.
"You really shouldn't smoke in bed," Dazai's voice was muffled by the pillow still, and Chuuya wasn't entirely certain how he could smell the smoke considering he was clearly attempting to suffocate himself instead of waking up like a normal human being.
I have a dog, Franco.  He’s a mutt, but definitely has some Rottweiler in him.  He’s meaty, and his coat is black and tan .  The rest of him is shepherd, or pit, I’m not sure, but at 90 pounds, you can bet none of his ancestors are Pomeranian.  About Franco, he’s missin(more)