To think well of himself. That was Frank’s primary concern. It was an endless (and thankless) struggle.
Jason Starling, ed., Adventures in Narrative Parsimony.
“It was the deceit that mattered,” said Dr. Gowan, “not anything in particular that was covered up.”
Rubina Malcolm, The Black Box.
“I am a face model,” she whispered. “Watch how they light me perfectly.“
Diana Moone, Living Well.
Select a sequence of words that satisfies you.
Godfrey Tooke, Collected Aphorisms.
“Am I thinking yet?” asked Jennifer, almost desperately.
“No!” came the response.
Anselm Bligh, A Collection of Miniatures.
“No, Stacie. If the sentence contains the word girl, then it is to be considered a naughty sentence.”
Myrtle Mawby, Cabinets and Drawers, a Novel.
The internet creates the boredom that it promises to relieve.
Roger Hedgecook, Stolen and Sold for Parts.
“We are not rational, Jack. We rationalize. There is a big difference.”
Pryce Cummings, Rattle Box.
“But where did Tuesday and Wednesday go, Oliver? Tell me that. Please.”
Gladys Huizinga, Hard-Luck Dennis.
A roof tile—loosened several days earlier in a strong storm—fell upon his head, killing him instantly.
Roone Giddings, Dirty Old Coins.
dennis scharnberg 