Index of First Lines

 Airport, the, he ditched the hearse atAnything, pretend I didn’t sayAnyway, after all that it rainedAsleep, Gabriel García Márquez just died but you are alreadyBed, in the morning we watched the eulogies inBeehives, she hid his letters in theBody, I was afraid to find out if that shadow was yourBones, I will tell you the truth about theChicken ranchero, I gazed into the abyss and beheld theChickens, here I am once again, burning toast for theCircus, Dan didn’t use any machines to make hisClosed:, how I would do it with my eyes completelyCopenhagen, she just wasn’t the same when she got back fromCrazy, she had three dogs and half of them wereCupcake shop, held hostage above theDesperation, he used to think he’d been tricked intoDrive, there’s no mystery to it it’s just a long-assEnd, I will be asking a lot of questions at theExcuse, I don’t want to be forgiven, I just want a goodFinch, I just came in to tell you about theFlower petals, he cleaned up everything starting with theGeologist flophouse, it was just anotherGin, some days you leave with the tax checks and return withGuy, he is Nebraska’s KafkaHand, laughing with that knife in yourHarp case, they said they’d leave the, in the basement if we wantedHypnotist, somewhere—maybe on the way home—she lost the number of theIdea, as I told you on the phone I have noLast thing, I need you to do one, for meLeft, in one more minute there’ll be eightLodestone, I fell asleep looking up the meaning ofMentos, because you and me, we’re like Coke andMorning, the furnace guys were listening to Jim Croce on a cloudy OctoberMother, he wanted to be a dentist like hisNecklace, no to the knife and keys. Yes to theNumbers, their language has an absence ofOnion, the first man my mother loved was the one who showed her how to cut anOpen, it is a beautiful night, and so the door of the pedicure salon is proppedPants, I need to ask you something about thesePeaches, sounds to me like you just answered your own question about what to do about yourPenitentiary, from that distance I couldn’t tell if it was a reservoir or aPorn collection, when I said his dad was 450 pounds but had an extensive, I didn’t mean to implyRid of the truck, you need to get, fastSelf-explanatory, if my name were the Human Torch I’d beShrine, that’s not a, just a table with some stuff I’m trying to clear offSing, just make it, you fuckerStrudel, she made, between the funeral and Easter egg class and baked it afterTruck, he locked the falcon overnight with the periscope in theUs, here lies Vera god helpWas known for taking the first photograph of the sun, FoucaultWingspans, speaking of hugeWritten, they said they were the saddest polkas ever____Thomas Brendler's writing has appeared in McSweeney’s and other venues. He studied forestry at Yale University.