“Out west everything has its own space. Every little ramshackle cabin, shack, hut sits perched atop its own little piece of destiny with room to breathe, room to live, room to die. You'll see them, the dead ones, sitting by… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“I bet she thought she was getting into a fight with a vanilla wafer on roller skates but little did she know she was… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“If you threw Elvis and a scarecrow in a blender, topped the whole thing off with Seagram's 7 and pressed dice, you would make my dad. He's got tar black hair and shoulder blades that cut through his undershirt like clipped wings. He looks like a gray-skinned, skinny-rat cowboy and I would be lying if I didn't say that I… — Andrea Portes Copy Share
“One hundred and thirteen seconds." "I am in extreme dislike ..." Gasp. "... of this process at the present moment." Gasp. "And also, of… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“I look like vanilla pudding so nobody knows that on the inside I am spider soup.” — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“And when I have that feeling, that feeling like I need a handout, desperate, I want to pull my skin off and turn into… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“When I get back to my dorm room, there it is, staring at me from above my bed. The Vladimir Putin calendar. Ha! I… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“Well, I'm sorry. Again. For like the millionth time. If there's anything I can do ... I'd offer to pay for your dry cleaning,… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“I'm not sure why anyone on the face of the planet would want to use a bow and arrow. I mean, it seems like… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“Don't worry. We do not have to talk about. We are Russian. We do not talk about feelings all the time and no one… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“There were babies, and toddlers, and five-year-old boys in Batman shirts. There was even a little girl dressed as Elsa. For no reason. It's… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“I look out past the corn and the wheat and wonder how many sets of bones are buried, unspoken, keeping their stories to themselves… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
“Second, I will venture to Café Treplev, which is a hidden, wooden, book-lined restaurant that looks more like someone's personal library I would like… — Andrea Portes Copy Share Image
