He had been wrong about her, but she liked the way he’d been wrong. He’d made a beautiful mistake, she thought, fatal and beautiful.
His back turned to her, now, as he counted the stolen cash, she quietly slipped the knife out of its sheath and moved close enough to look over his shoulder at the piles of bills that lay on the table.
She paused for a moment, long enough to notice that on this cool, crisp, fall day, the wind had strewn… Continue
Added by Brad Rose on October 31, 2010 at 10:28pm —
Hadn’t he met her half-way, in fact, more than half-way
? Richard pictured love as an expansive river over which two lovers, typically, built a bridge toward one another. Aren’t we supposed to meet in the middle
? he thought. A current of fear ran through him now as he imagined that he was building the entire bridge himself. At first, he pictured Lola, innocently standing on the other side, her dainty hands… Continue
Added by Brad Rose on October 16, 2010 at 4:00pm —
Drizzling, the weather was raw and damp as freshly sliced sushi. Heather didn't give a damn, as she turned up the collar of her raincoat, and walked from the bus stop to her empty apartment. There really is no such thing as weather, anyway.
As she avoided the grate in the street where the water methodically dripped into the dark drain, Heather's thoughts turned to the guillotine, an ingenious invention whose… Continue
Added by Brad Rose on October 15, 2010 at 7:00pm —
About 75 kilometers from Zurich, we’re driving through the Alps in my rented Carrera, which has cost me an arm and a leg for the week, but the money doesn’t matter, now. Although I haven’t told you, I don’t think you’d care if you learned I have a wife and three kids back in Topeka, a place whose utter flatness you’d never be able to imagine—not in your wildest dreams. Your English isn’t very good, but you are more beautiful than new snow, and you recite from memory Rilke’s ‘Panther’ each night… Continue
Added by Brad Rose on October 13, 2010 at 11:00am —
Following the unmistakable thud of the collision, Lola grabbed her purse and jumped out of her little car. She skittered around the back, and immediately bent over the right rear fender to see how much damage she’d done. Thankfully, it wasn’t too bad—after all, she’d only been going a few miles an hour, as she tried, unsuccessfully, to maneuver out of the tight parking space in front of Jackie's house. As she examined the damage to her car, the driver of the car she’d… Continue
Added by Brad Rose on October 10, 2010 at 10:30pm —
I am walking the dog. Walking around one of those leafy East coast suburban neighborhoods, in the early fall. It’s just after dark. The fine, quiet rain is slanting down—you can see it in the streetlights’ orange glow--, so fine, it appears to have been dragged through a sieve. The wind is rifling through the maples, the red oaks, and spiky pines. The leaves are waving like little hands applauding or surrendering. There is rain-blurred shape following me, in the dark, about 100 yards behind. I… Continue
Added by Brad Rose on October 4, 2010 at 9:00pm —
The dog is waiting, always waiting, interminably waiting for something. Head slung low, like a cow’s belly, sad and slow, loitering eyes. I think he knows which one of us will die first. Don’t ask me how, he just knows. It’s a doggie secret.
The last thing on earth he wants, is to confess.
Added by Brad Rose on October 2, 2010 at 12:30pm —