And that was the last time any of us saw Jesse tits-forward. He didn’t believe in luck, but it was the very thing that let Jesse live long enough to die when he did.
green grass dotted with sheep, cloven by clear streams and laced with white fences that surround placid cattle under the Simsonian sky. It was like a dream. She never saw the photos.
Bird-word gets out that there’s suet to be had at my place and the starlings descend on my yard like there’s free beer and a wet t-shirt contest at Freeman Farm.
"...The same gravity that makes it hard for Fat Leon to climb stairs holds the moon in orbit.” We both chuckled. We love Fat Leon. Last year he was drunk and fell backwards on the steps of the courthouse and knocked his attorney and two civilians down.
The machine clattered for five minutes then stopped. The teller announced that I had twenty-six dollars and forty-two cents coming, then asked, “How do you want that?”
The conclusion we came to is that Charlie’s must have been death by Autoerotic Asphyxiation--AEA, Paraphilia, scarfing. There was no information that indicated Charlie left the world of the living in a less embarrassing (therefore more frightening) way.
...if I had feathers to lift me up in the air, you wouldn’t hear a soft fluttering sound when I flew by. You would only hear me breathing heavy, coughing and panting as I moved slowly along looking for a place to rest and a fountain of Red Bull.