Category: how to win the lottery
how to win the lottery s17e10 – from hell by alan moore
my name is william withey gull and i am dying. i am catch-me-if-you-can and i am leather apron. i am jack the ripper on my way to heaven.
how to win the lottery s17e9 – the poisonwood bible by barbara kingsolver
my little beast, my eyes, my favorite stolen egg. listen. to live is to be marked. to live is to change, to acquire the words of a story, and that is the only celebration we mortals really know. in perfect stillness, frankly, i’ve only found sorrow.
how to win the lottery s17e8 – i love dick by chris kraus
in the afternoon the sun came out, but the snow and wind kept on for a long time. finally the snow stopped and i lay in the tent watching the fly flap away from the tentwall in the gusts so that the wall became sublimely white and perfect for a moment before the fly’s writhing shadow lashed it; all day i watched the sun-play and felt that i needed no more.
how to win the lottery s17e7 – the atlas by william t. vollmann
in the afternoon the sun came out, but the snow and wind kept on for a long time. finally the snow stopped and i lay in the tent watching the fly flap away from the tentwall in the gusts so that the wall became sublimely white and perfect for a moment before the fly’s writhing shadow lashed it; all day i watched the sun-play and felt that i needed no more.
how to win the lottery s17e6 – sabbath’s theater by philip roth
her first puppet was a bird, a hand puppet with feathers and sequins, nothing like sabbath’s idea of a puppet. he explained that puppets were not for children; puppets did not say, “i am innocent and good.” they said the opposite. “i will play with you,” they said, “however i like.” she stood corrected, but that didn’t mean that, as a puppetmaker, she ever really stopped looking for the happiness that she’d known at seven, when she still had a mom and a dad and a childhood.
