Add to ORKGSo this is hell. Mr. Tyro stood in front of the polished desk and stared unbelievingly at his pale reflection in the mirror on an adjoining wall..
THE FOG had rolled in from the coast in the twilight, a vaporous wave gathering substance in the pur...
This text interwoven with artworks by Elizabeth McQueen explores the act of writing and this writer&...
He sits in the dark shades drawn musty odors everywhere. Cuffed pants sag on his aging form, his shi...
THE DIM evening light, fighting its way through the dusty pane, is almost lost in the drab, boxlike ...
Black letters stamped on the door read MEN. As I enter the place, the bare porcelain fixtures sta...
In the maddened darkness of my room light is an alien nightmare; only shadows drip from the lone lam...
THE morning sunlight filtered through the dirt-streaked window of Harry Ellis\u27 bedroom to the few...
HE LIT a cigarette and lay down on his bunk. The four white walls, broken in their vulgar nakedness ...
The sun slipped behind the last row of low, brick huts and left the world in a warm, gray twilight..
As I look around my room in this practical, unimaginative daylight, I can yet feel the terror and se...
SINCE seven-thirty in the morning, Carl had sat on the back porch, on the old green chair by the old...
the house with the light burns all night. it seems to be empty: she never hears or sees anyone comin...
In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay\u27s first paragraph. Every night the same scene is play...
I think often of death, And I have read the wistful Shelley Whose longing betrays the fires within, ...
The alarm clock clanged noisily. A hairy arm reached in the direction of the noise..
THE FOG had rolled in from the coast in the twilight, a vaporous wave gathering substance in the pur...
This text interwoven with artworks by Elizabeth McQueen explores the act of writing and this writer&...
He sits in the dark shades drawn musty odors everywhere. Cuffed pants sag on his aging form, his shi...
THE DIM evening light, fighting its way through the dusty pane, is almost lost in the drab, boxlike ...
Black letters stamped on the door read MEN. As I enter the place, the bare porcelain fixtures sta...
In the maddened darkness of my room light is an alien nightmare; only shadows drip from the lone lam...
THE morning sunlight filtered through the dirt-streaked window of Harry Ellis\u27 bedroom to the few...
HE LIT a cigarette and lay down on his bunk. The four white walls, broken in their vulgar nakedness ...
The sun slipped behind the last row of low, brick huts and left the world in a warm, gray twilight..
As I look around my room in this practical, unimaginative daylight, I can yet feel the terror and se...
SINCE seven-thirty in the morning, Carl had sat on the back porch, on the old green chair by the old...
the house with the light burns all night. it seems to be empty: she never hears or sees anyone comin...
In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay\u27s first paragraph. Every night the same scene is play...
I think often of death, And I have read the wistful Shelley Whose longing betrays the fires within, ...
The alarm clock clanged noisily. A hairy arm reached in the direction of the noise..
THE FOG had rolled in from the coast in the twilight, a vaporous wave gathering substance in the pur...
This text interwoven with artworks by Elizabeth McQueen explores the act of writing and this writer&...
He sits in the dark shades drawn musty odors everywhere. Cuffed pants sag on his aging form, his shi...