06-22-2011, 08:22 AM
The following are a few of my entries in a game I play with jadielue where we each take turns devising fake book quotes:
By taking the knife from my father and carving the turkey for his wife, his children, I had finally acheived my revenge. When I sliced into the lightly browned flesh of the bird, I could hear his manhood shrivel like an old man's hands. - Joe Beets, Returning to the Scene of the Crime
The farmhouse was old and barely used. A cartwheel rotted in the sun. It reminded me of when my brother and I found a cat skeleton by the roadside while I was driving him back from college for the summer. There was still some flesh draped over it. That night I drove back thirty miles to the very same spot to give it a proper burial. But it was gone. - James Henning, The Reunion
We never talked about death in our house. As the bowl of mashed potatoes was passed between my younger siblings, as mother sewed a new coat for the daughter of our less advantaged neighbours while father watched the presidential address, we never discussed where our tabby cat had gone, if it was still in the shoebox behind the outhouse or if God had taken it away. Or why my father so hated touching my grandmother. - Elizabeth Mortimer, Denials and Cutlery
By taking the knife from my father and carving the turkey for his wife, his children, I had finally acheived my revenge. When I sliced into the lightly browned flesh of the bird, I could hear his manhood shrivel like an old man's hands. - Joe Beets, Returning to the Scene of the Crime
The farmhouse was old and barely used. A cartwheel rotted in the sun. It reminded me of when my brother and I found a cat skeleton by the roadside while I was driving him back from college for the summer. There was still some flesh draped over it. That night I drove back thirty miles to the very same spot to give it a proper burial. But it was gone. - James Henning, The Reunion
We never talked about death in our house. As the bowl of mashed potatoes was passed between my younger siblings, as mother sewed a new coat for the daughter of our less advantaged neighbours while father watched the presidential address, we never discussed where our tabby cat had gone, if it was still in the shoebox behind the outhouse or if God had taken it away. Or why my father so hated touching my grandmother. - Elizabeth Mortimer, Denials and Cutlery
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe
