We were young and our happiness dazzled us with its strength.
But there was also a terrible betrayal that lay within me like a Merle
Haggard song at a French restaurant. ...
I could not tell the girl about the woman of the tollway, of
her milk white BMW and her Jordache smile. There had been a fight. I
had punched her boyfriend, who fought the mechanical bulls. Everyone
told him, "You ride the bull, senor. You do not fight it." But he was
lean and tough like a bad rib-eye and he fought the bull. And then he
fought me. And when we finished there were no winners, just men doing
what men must do. ...
"Stop the car," the girl said. There was a look of terrible
sadness in her eyes. She knew about the woman of the tollway. I knew
not how. I started to speak, but she raised an arm and spoke with a
quiet and peace I will never forget.
"I do not ask for whom's the tollway belle," she said, "the
tollway belle's for thee."
The next morning our youth was a memory, and our happiness was
a lie. Life is like a bad margarita with good tequila, I thought as I
poured whiskey onto my granola and faced a new day.
-- Peter Applebome, International Imitation Hemingway
Competition
But there was also a terrible betrayal that lay within me like a Merle
Haggard song at a French restaurant. ...
I could not tell the girl about the woman of the tollway, of
her milk white BMW and her Jordache smile. There had been a fight. I
had punched her boyfriend, who fought the mechanical bulls. Everyone
told him, "You ride the bull, senor. You do not fight it." But he was
lean and tough like a bad rib-eye and he fought the bull. And then he
fought me. And when we finished there were no winners, just men doing
what men must do. ...
"Stop the car," the girl said. There was a look of terrible
sadness in her eyes. She knew about the woman of the tollway. I knew
not how. I started to speak, but she raised an arm and spoke with a
quiet and peace I will never forget.
"I do not ask for whom's the tollway belle," she said, "the
tollway belle's for thee."
The next morning our youth was a memory, and our happiness was
a lie. Life is like a bad margarita with good tequila, I thought as I
poured whiskey onto my granola and faced a new day.
-- Peter Applebome, International Imitation Hemingway
Competition
Related:
- We were young and our happiness dazzled us with its strength.
But there was also a terrible betrayal that lay within... - The next morning our youth was a memory, and our happiness was a lie.
Life is like a bad margarita with good tequila, I... - Jacques: First, you must get to know your lane. Feel the slickness,
feel the slippery finish. Caresses it, experience it... - She was a very intelligent woman. I remember one time I thought she was
cheating on me,
but I couldn't prove it. So I followed her. She picked... - Well I looked at my watch and it said a quarter to five,
The headline screamed that I was still alive, I couldn't... - saga n.
[WPI] A cuspy but bogus raving story about N
random broken people.
Here is a classic example of the saga form, as told... - What they said:
What they meant:
"I recommend this candidate with no qualifications whatsoever."
(Yes,
that about sums it up.) "The amount of mathematics... - Asked how she felt being the first woman to make a major-league team,
she said, "Like a pig in mud," or words to that effect...
From the same category:
- Project teams detest weekly progress report meetings because they display lack
of progress.
Golub's Fifth Law of... - No state has an inherent right to survive through conscript troops
and,
in the long run, no state ever has. Roman matrons used... - Uhura: "It's a big galaxy, Mister Scott."
Scott: "Aye."
-
"Metamorphosis", Stardate 3219.8... - With spots of sunny openings, and with nooks
To lie and read in,
sloping into brooks. -- Leigh Hunt (1784-1859) -... - From an announcement of a congress of the International Ontopsychology
Association,
in Rome]: The Ontopsychological school, availing itself...
