Posts Tagged: literature
Dirty Parts (Revised)
Her father doesn’t like to get his hands dirty. He’s more of a perma-press kind of guy with plastic in his collar and a sharp crease down his leg. The palms of his hands are soft and smooth as the
Dirty Parts (Revised)
Her father doesn’t like to get his hands dirty. He’s more of a perma-press kind of guy with plastic in his collar and a sharp crease down his leg. The palms of his hands are soft and smooth as the
Wait and See
Olympic-sized indoor pools are all the same: A vault echoing with the splash and suck of water, air sharp with chlorine, rubber heads breaking the surface of artificial blue like blind worms threading up and down the lanes. But it’s
Wait and See
Olympic-sized indoor pools are all the same: A vault echoing with the splash and suck of water, air sharp with chlorine, rubber heads breaking the surface of artificial blue like blind worms threading up and down the lanes. But it’s
her hands are not beautiful (part 1 of chapter 14)
(photo courtesy Jo) The hunched, black-clothed form of Mademoiselle Reitz shuffles up to the piano, gives a haughty little bow and plops down on the bench. Her hands are not beautiful; they hang over the keys like frozen buzzards and
her hands are not beautiful (part 1 of chapter 14)
(photo courtesy Jo) The hunched, black-clothed form of Mademoiselle Reitz shuffles up to the piano, gives a haughty little bow and plops down on the bench. Her hands are not beautiful; they hang over the keys like frozen buzzards and
awakenings
(photo courtesy Kay SusanneMC) * (inspired byAmy Krause Rosenberg and Herman Hesse) * * 1899 Kate Chopin publishes The Awakening, an amazing, ahead-of-its-time novel about a woman trying to negotiate the incongruent parts of her personality and live a full,
awakenings
(photo courtesy Kay SusanneMC) * (inspired byAmy Krause Rosenberg and Herman Hesse) * * 1899 Kate Chopin publishes The Awakening, an amazing, ahead-of-its-time novel about a woman trying to negotiate the incongruent parts of her personality and live a full,
freedom house
(photo by yistergirl) It was a mammoth Victorian, dingy white, with exes of tape on the windows, three stories plus a basement and an attic no one ever visited. It sat on a line of newer, smaller houses that repeated
freedom house
(photo by yistergirl) It was a mammoth Victorian, dingy white, with exes of tape on the windows, three stories plus a basement and an attic no one ever visited. It sat on a line of newer, smaller houses that repeated
portrait of an artist as a young girl (chapter 12, part 2)
(photo by sissychrissy) For her first walk up the hill to Mae’s house, Drew doesn’t even need to put on shoes but she does, anyway, for the sake of appearance. Mae’s assistant Holly meets her at the door and hands
portrait of an artist as a young girl (chapter 12, part 2)
(photo by sissychrissy) For her first walk up the hill to Mae’s house, Drew doesn’t even need to put on shoes but she does, anyway, for the sake of appearance. Mae’s assistant Holly meets her at the door and hands
catfish
(photo by placeinsun) They called it a porch, even though it had four walls and a roof like any other room. Ever since Virginia died, he said, he preferred to sleep on the porch, and by the way he
catfish
(photo by placeinsun) They called it a porch, even though it had four walls and a roof like any other room. Ever since Virginia died, he said, he preferred to sleep on the porch, and by the way he
the ghostwriter (chapter 12, part 1)
(photo by autumn_leaf on Flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/_autumn_leaf/) Drew’s life has become hyperbolic and the fact that it all seems somewhat implausible nags her—at a red light, or when the music pauses between songs, in the stillness of dawn before her apartment
the ghostwriter (chapter 12, part 1)
(photo by autumn_leaf on Flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/_autumn_leaf/) Drew’s life has become hyperbolic and the fact that it all seems somewhat implausible nags her—at a red light, or when the music pauses between songs, in the stillness of dawn before her apartment
what would water do (chapter 11)
(photo by vlpg Too on Flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/vlpgtoo/) The napkins have resurfaced, the plates have retreated to the center of the table and Lang Westwood is at the punchline of her story: “And I said, ‘what are my choices?’ to which
what would water do (chapter 11)
(photo by vlpg Too on Flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/vlpgtoo/) The napkins have resurfaced, the plates have retreated to the center of the table and Lang Westwood is at the punchline of her story: “And I said, ‘what are my choices?’ to which
the chorus speaks (chapter 10)
(photo by fotorosso on flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/fotorosso/) A week later, Drew is in the shower in her apartment when the phone rings. She stands in front of the mirror dripping on the floor as she listens to the voicemail message: Hello,
the chorus speaks (chapter 10)
(photo by fotorosso on flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/fotorosso/) A week later, Drew is in the shower in her apartment when the phone rings. She stands in front of the mirror dripping on the floor as she listens to the voicemail message: Hello,
guilt and trashy magazines (chapter 9)
Wayne slides one admiring hand across the Lilien’s antique maple liquor cabinet and swings the doors open: “Ta dah!” “That’s a lot of booze.” “Here’s a forty-year-old bottle. Want a taste?” “No thanks.” Drew is still woozy from her lunch
guilt and trashy magazines (chapter 9)
Wayne slides one admiring hand across the Lilien’s antique maple liquor cabinet and swings the doors open: “Ta dah!” “That’s a lot of booze.” “Here’s a forty-year-old bottle. Want a taste?” “No thanks.” Drew is still woozy from her lunch
adaptations (chapter 6)
(photo by johnwilliamsphd on flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/johnwilliamsphd/) Last night Wayne did his customary circuit of the clubs and didn’t find his way back to his own apartment until 4:23 am. He would still be asleep if Mrs. Espinoza hadn’t come at
adaptations (chapter 6)
(photo by johnwilliamsphd on flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/johnwilliamsphd/) Last night Wayne did his customary circuit of the clubs and didn’t find his way back to his own apartment until 4:23 am. He would still be asleep if Mrs. Espinoza hadn’t come at
complicated women (chapter 5)
(photo by lucyshena on flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/lucy-locket/) On her way down the hallway toward her apartment she knocks on Wayne’s door. He pokes his head out as she is turning her key. “Hey! How’d it go?” “You’ll never look at me the
complicated women (chapter 5)
(photo by lucyshena on flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/lucy-locket/) On her way down the hallway toward her apartment she knocks on Wayne’s door. He pokes his head out as she is turning her key. “Hey! How’d it go?” “You’ll never look at me the
