It rained all day.
And it rained all night.
The water ran heavy
in the creek with spite.
And the morning came back
with a timid light.
[from “The Wolverton Ballyhoo”]
Miles Bantry, ed., Mr. Roode’s Rustic Tales.
“There are so many ways to say no, Ellen. So very many ways. Choose one.”
Burnham Woode, A Circle of Radiance.
The world of spirit might not be dazzling exactly, or breathtaking. But it is completely different.
Chalmers van Nest, The Trivial Quadrivium.
“Time is a thing, a separable thing.” No.
Ashton Wilkes, Mathematical Investigations.
“We lie to ourselves, Emily. It’s a means of survival, I suppose. At least it is now, in this world.”
Lawton Trumbull, The Three Days.
“That’s just a silly superstition, George.”
“Oh, really? Can you tell me something that isn’t?”
Karl Buckling, Time Domain Blues.
What postmodernism lacks is a hard floor.
Chalmers van Nest, The Trivial Quadrivium.
Rock Singer: diminutive; theatrical hair; loud screaming voice; silly attire.
Callista Ralph, Alphabet Soup.
“Those bricks appear to be flying, sir.”
“Yes, of course. But bricks will do that, Jason, if you will only let them.”
Adrian Caliban, The Magnificent Egglestons.
The surreal was always the easiest button to push in modernist aesthetics. A facile modernism. I prefer Senor Wences.
Crispin Trove, The Viewer As Pest.
dennis scharnberg 