I would stay up all night. I hate rejection. Dont tell me I didnt say no. Who were the ones you couldnt get rid of. Who did you honor and for what. How is a slap for not honoring your mother. You wished for someone elses. You write again what was the day before.
We in the Republic are exhausted. Our enemies have lain down their arms, leaving us suddenly without a national purpose. Brown people are pouring over the border to take up work we heedlessly relinquish in our pursuit of leisure and sexual gratification.
Eliza leaned back and yawned. The sunlight played on the drops of water remaining on the porch from last nights rain. Eric wondered how well he knew this person as he lifted his glass. "You will never understand." Ants were crawling over the tight buds of the pink and white peonies, which looked like a childs drawing of lollipops lined up in a row. It was 10:45. A car pulled into the neighbors driveway and a faint smell of exhaust was left in the air; the neighbor waved.
Rikki Ducornet spent her childhood in Cuba and Egypt. In addition to a Lannan Literary Fellowship, she has also received grants from the Ingram Merrill Foundation, the Ontario Arts Council, and the Eben Demarest Trust. She has written novels, poetry, two collections of short stories, and two childrens books (Phosphor in Dreamland and The Word Desire). Her novel The Fan-Makers Inquisition was chosen as a 1999 best book of the year by the Los Angeles Times, and her novel The Jade Cabinet was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award.
"A 300 pounder," Daniel said to Oscar as they bounced along. There were deep puddles in the frontage road from the rain. Jefe was squeezed between the two men. He looked down at his hands. The blood was dry and flaked off except under his fingernails, where it would stay until that night.