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Wednesday, September 3, 2008. The chip in my father's thumb. Tells the world what he is worth. The chip on my father's shoulder. Tells me that it is not enough. Wednesday, July 23, 2008. When I die I want cremation. When the spirit leaves this fleshy vessel-. I won't miss it. Hairs singe and recoil;. My fluids bubble up through my pores. My flesh melts;. The dead fills land that corn could destroy. We all hunger for corn,. Yet we deny our body's thirst for flame. Do we lively debtors possess land? Try to...

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speak easy | speakeasychild.blogspot.com Reviews
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Wednesday, September 3, 2008. The chip in my father's thumb. Tells the world what he is worth. The chip on my father's shoulder. Tells me that it is not enough. Wednesday, July 23, 2008. When I die I want cremation. When the spirit leaves this fleshy vessel-. I won't miss it. Hairs singe and recoil;. My fluids bubble up through my pores. My flesh melts;. The dead fills land that corn could destroy. We all hunger for corn,. Yet we deny our body's thirst for flame. Do we lively debtors possess land? Try to...
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3 riboon
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5 speak easy
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7 fire
8 torch it
9 my bones blacken
10 this world decomposes
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speak easy | speakeasychild.blogspot.com Reviews

https://speakeasychild.blogspot.com

Wednesday, September 3, 2008. The chip in my father's thumb. Tells the world what he is worth. The chip on my father's shoulder. Tells me that it is not enough. Wednesday, July 23, 2008. When I die I want cremation. When the spirit leaves this fleshy vessel-. I won't miss it. Hairs singe and recoil;. My fluids bubble up through my pores. My flesh melts;. The dead fills land that corn could destroy. We all hunger for corn,. Yet we deny our body's thirst for flame. Do we lively debtors possess land? Try to...

INTERNAL PAGES

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1

speak easy: dance

http://www.speakeasychild.blogspot.com/2008/07/dance.html

Monday, July 21, 2008. After years and years the routine became a source of absolute comfort. Bitterness and envy showed face, but most seemed to fall into a state of acceptance or catatonic indifference. Old age seemed to drain away the insecurities of youth. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile.

2

speak easy: September 2008

http://www.speakeasychild.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html

Wednesday, September 3, 2008. The chip in my father's thumb. Tells the world what he is worth. The chip on my father's shoulder. Tells me that it is not enough. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile.

3

speak easy: July 2008

http://www.speakeasychild.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html

Wednesday, July 23, 2008. When I die I want cremation. When the spirit leaves this fleshy vessel-. I won't miss it. Hairs singe and recoil;. My fluids bubble up through my pores. My flesh melts;. The dead fills land that corn could destroy. We all hunger for corn,. Yet we deny our body's thirst for flame. Who is so holy that their decomposing corpse should possess land? Do we lively debtors possess land? Have our hands harvested and reaped. And sowed life into this godless soil? Throw me over newlyweds.

4

speak easy: Fire

http://www.speakeasychild.blogspot.com/2008/07/fire.html

Wednesday, July 23, 2008. When I die I want cremation. When the spirit leaves this fleshy vessel-. I won't miss it. Hairs singe and recoil;. My fluids bubble up through my pores. My flesh melts;. The dead fills land that corn could destroy. We all hunger for corn,. Yet we deny our body's thirst for flame. Who is so holy that their decomposing corpse should possess land? Do we lively debtors possess land? Have our hands harvested and reaped. And sowed life into this godless soil? Throw me over newlyweds.

5

speak easy: riboon

http://www.speakeasychild.blogspot.com/2008/09/riboon.html

Wednesday, September 3, 2008. The chip in my father's thumb. Tells the world what he is worth. The chip on my father's shoulder. Tells me that it is not enough. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile.

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Scratch Out: BUFFALO

http://scratchout.blogspot.com/2012/12/buffalo.html

Short Fiction For Unhappy Children. Friday, December 21, 2012. Back in the US. Back in the US. Back in the US(A)SR. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). TORONTO, ONTARIO, CANADA II. TORONTO, ONTARIO, CANADA. View my complete profile.

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Scratch Out: May 2011

http://scratchout.blogspot.com/2011_05_01_archive.html

Short Fiction For Unhappy Children. Tuesday, May 31, 2011. From: Alice - - mandateandmetastisis@gmail.com- -. Date: Mon, May 30, 2011 at 5:18 AM. To: Alex Wiles - -A.Wiles@gmail.com- -. Dear Mr. Wiles,. Thank you for all your efforts and best of luck to you in the future. Owner, Bomb Bridge Coffee. Sent from my iPhone. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile.

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Scratch Out: TORONTO, ONTARIO, CANADA II

http://scratchout.blogspot.com/2012/12/toronto-ontario-canada-ii.html

Short Fiction For Unhappy Children. Saturday, December 8, 2012. TORONTO, ONTARIO, CANADA II. My new view on Bay Street. But only she is allowed to take pictures of she. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). TORONTO, ONTARIO, CANADA II. TORONTO, ONTARIO, CANADA. View my complete profile.

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Scratch Out: August 2011

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Short Fiction For Unhappy Children. Saturday, August 20, 2011. The event occurred on the corner of Calumet and Calumet, the place where the street meets itself. The bells ringing from The Mission signaled six o’clock. I looked up to glimpse those bells clanging high in the tower. As I turned back to the sunset I was startled by a couple walking past me in the opposite direction. To great surprise the man in the passing couple was, indeed, myself. 8220;Hey, asshole! Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).

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Scratch Out: January 2013

http://scratchout.blogspot.com/2013_01_01_archive.html

Short Fiction For Unhappy Children. Thursday, January 17, 2013. One Year Ago Today. PS: I never meant for this blog to be used as a place for photos of no consequence or substance, I meant it to be a place for short fiction of no consequence or substance. Apologies, apologies. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). One Year Ago Today. View my complete profile.

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Scratch Out: September 2009

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Short Fiction For Unhappy Children. Tuesday, September 29, 2009. The 800 Words or Elegance in 19x19. 160;   . I feel like that's cheating, you know, I should have had more stones.". 160;   . I guess it could be cheating." He holds one nostril at a time, breathing in hard with the other. 160;   . It's definitely cheating, I am only hopped up on fast food and soda.that's the opposite of beneficial.". 160;   . You can have some of this if you want.". 160;   . 160;   . 160;   . 160;   . 160;   . Surprisingly...

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Scratch Out: July 2012

http://scratchout.blogspot.com/2012_07_01_archive.html

Short Fiction For Unhappy Children. Sunday, July 1, 2012. NO MORE KETCHUP, EVER. NO MORE KETCHUP, EVER. The H J. Heinz corporation (and other smaller ketchup manufacturers) immediately began scrambling to restore production, though it’s unclear if it would have made any difference; H.J. Heinz’s CFO probably knew that and that’s why he fell to the Pittsburgh pavement. The Dow Jones Industrial Average, NASDAQ, and many stock markets across the globe immediately fell steeply. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).

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Scratch Out: In The Wooded Places

http://scratchout.blogspot.com/2012/10/in-wooded-places.html

Short Fiction For Unhappy Children. Monday, October 22, 2012. In The Wooded Places. If lucky and let to breathe. They would have wounded each other. While we let our hearts pump blood. Into each other’s open chests. Feel the fear of death. As we now know what it means to. You will bleed on me. When I break into your secret. But we will have prepared. And trained for it. As soldiers do we will know that blood is the sacrifice for even the hope of everything good. Kept in the open and never to rot.

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Scratch Out: June 2012

http://scratchout.blogspot.com/2012_06_01_archive.html

Short Fiction For Unhappy Children. Sunday, June 17, 2012. The Man From Montevideo. A boy and a girl played on the rug in the sitting room. There was no need for a fire. Outside the city calmed as the lights went out. The mother of the two well dressed handsome children tapped her finger on the tabletop. The household staff sat by quietly while dinner grew cold on the plates. 8220;Another maté, sir? Late afternoon Marcos was at the outer edge of Montevideo. 8220;Outside,” quietly from the bartender.

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Wednesday, September 3, 2008. The chip in my father's thumb. Tells the world what he is worth. The chip on my father's shoulder. Tells me that it is not enough. Wednesday, July 23, 2008. When I die I want cremation. When the spirit leaves this fleshy vessel-. I won't miss it. Hairs singe and recoil;. My fluids bubble up through my pores. My flesh melts;. The dead fills land that corn could destroy. We all hunger for corn,. Yet we deny our body's thirst for flame. Do we lively debtors possess land? Try to...

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The book clubs are for people who want to develop their reading,listening and communicative skills in English. They are an opportunity for you to meet with like minded people to enjoy books,either by reading or listening to them and to enter into lively discussions with each each other afterwaards. This a time to make friends and practice speaking with native speakers. Every day sometimes twice a day-soon you will be speaking like a native yourselft. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).