Comments Posted By betty wolfanger
Displaying 1 To 21 Of 21 Comments
He was sitting on the sidewalk eating a sandwich when he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen–that day.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 05.22.2010 @ 7:24 am
the doctor held the hammer too loosely and when she hit my knee it bounced back against her arm.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 05.18.2010 @ 11:39 am
around the edges is the not middle is the thing of surface and appearance. it is the middle that is substance that is meaning that is heart. Middle is stuck between, lodged but it is everything, everything is in the middle. It is not the cracks but it is the unseen.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 01.27.2009 @ 7:25 am
She was wearing the cutest pair of shoes, but no one could tell, no one could see. Her feet, the shoes, were hidden underneath her desk, behind the half gray walls of her cubicle. No one would ever know about her shoes, except for her.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 03.03.2010 @ 8:33 am
it was shaking in his hand.
“Artie?” I repeated.
He didn’t answer.
“Did you do something stupid Artie?”
He had done something stupid.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 03.06.2010 @ 5:11 pm
the accent, everyone finds it so charming but all I hear is the rape of land, the oppression of people in the name of some whiteman’s burden. everytime my co-worker says “hello love” I think about Rudyard Kipling writing wild jungle books to prove, just prove how very perfect the british are.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 03.08.2010 @ 6:30 am
she found it laying on the ground, splayed across pebbles and dirt and the remnants of some long-displaced red mulch.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 03.09.2010 @ 6:02 pm
across the front of her shirt it said “wanted” and I suppose it was funny except that she seemed like the kind of girl who hadn’t been wanted, had been a mistake, and now was trying to make up for it with too much eyeshadow and tight jeans.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 03.12.2010 @ 1:09 pm
I am sitting on the couch in underwear, a tank top and thick wooly socks and I am thinking that this thing–this self–is not something I am good at defining, so I will write about what I’m wearing instead.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 03.13.2010 @ 9:29 pm
burrowing through the cold, dark earth and beneath that, into the rocks and the crust and beneath that into the mantle until they spontaneously combust from the heat.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 03.15.2010 @ 9:17 am
i always lusted after those dangling, clanging behemoths. I thought I really wanted one, that it would mean i was a little bit important. Now i realize it just means I’m an adult.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 03.15.2010 @ 8:00 pm
She wasn’t an idiot, she was maybe a little scatter brained. But they looked the same to anyone watching. Instead of accepting that they were wrong about her, she accepted that she was wrong.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 03.01.2010 @ 7:44 am
across the universe is a tiny speck, even smaller than our speck where a little girl is dying her hair green and telling her mother, “I feel inspired by all the snow. it’s like a winter wonderland.”
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 02.27.2010 @ 12:10 pm
She wasn’t your average lawyer, for one thing she was bright. No, she was the type to put flowers in her hair and hula hoops around her waist.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 02.26.2010 @ 5:26 am
“No! I’m not sharing,” she said, holding the lemon drops off to one side.
They were unprotected, I could have easily knocked them out of her scrawny kid arms.
» Posted By Betty Wolfanger On 02.25.2010 @ 7:28 pm
when she put on those boots, the ones with the three inch heels and the two inch platforms she became a human tower, not a dainty spindle, not a minarette, a tower–solid and built for war.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 03.17.2010 @ 1:03 pm
i spun it with my finger, watching countries wiz by without any real meaning. I was six and Africa wasn’t anywhere I’d ever go, it was a shape on a ball and that was all it would ever be to me.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 02.20.2010 @ 7:43 am
laying in the night, he asked if i were awake and I lied with silence. There was something he had to say and I didn’t want to hear it, but I also didn’t want to not hear it.
» Posted By Betty Wolfanger On 02.18.2010 @ 7:12 am
laying on her back, the sheet tossed to the side, she is writhing along the bed, her body galloping toward some incomplete ecstasy when the door bell rings.
» Posted By Betty Wolfanger On 02.17.2010 @ 6:27 am
the roundness of his voice in the lower pitches and the eyebrows standing against his forehead. That’s what made him an American Icon, those eyebrows and that forehead.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 02.16.2010 @ 10:14 am
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red summer on a vine, polished by the sun, dangling off the green. the opposite of buried in snow and waiting, just waiting for the slow, slow melt.
» Posted By betty wolfanger On 01.01.1970 @ 12:00 am