Thomas Denis Gibney






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The Camel & the Eye of the Needle

The Visit

THEY SAY so many American adults take antidepressants for a mood disorder or a neurosis that you can find trace elements of SSRIs in the drinking waters of every major U.S. city.

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Read the Novel from the Beginning

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You never think you’re one of those people whose idea of death involves jumping from a roof, but then again you’ve been known to surprise yourself.

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50 Ways to Love and Lose

A recovering pornographer turned film critic. A lonely police officer, who falls in love with the favored call girl of a Sheung Wan gangster. She, the runaway beauty plagued by a broken heart—who resolves to sleep with every man she meets before her boss can hunt her down.

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Go Ask Alice

Sometimes, when it's late at night, I get the bright idea to stash my clothes behind an oleander and go swimming in the ocean.

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The Last Good Thing

Carolyn didn't always want to live on a commune. She grew up in a big house, with a big yard full of big, leafy trees, and big cars that she would loaf in the back of while she watched the big-chested trees blow by. When she thought of the times her father was around, she remembered how he looked from the backseat—his crazed, slanting jaw, his manic, apricot ears, his tweed taxi cap, his wiry hair sprouting beneath it. It was harder to love someone who was always around, Carolyn learned. All that exposure to the person's shortcomings, etc. It was much easier to long after a ghost.

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The Ghost of Lawrence Tabers Prince

He whipped around to where the voice had come from. The heavy man and his table were tucked in a crook of shadows. A nearby lamp threw an oblique light on the side of his face. He seemed the apparition of a Civil War dead.

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“I Didn’t Wanna Go to Heaven Anyway”

It’s not like he was a prolific bullshitter by nature; plagiarizing just came easy to him. People thought he was good at it. And they would rather pay him to bullshit than expend the mental energy involved in coming up with an answer for themselves.

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A Where Are They Now Montage of the Dunn-Prince Family

A Where Are They Now montage of the Dunn-Prince family might go something like this: slow pan across a dappled quadrangle, whitely crusted with frost. Sun breaking onto veined ivy, dreadlocks of it, scaling a red-brick building—where we now approach a gothic half-oval window, the muddled quality of the glass dissolving as our perspective osmotically insinuates itself to the other side, settling on a tall, assertive woman with hair like burnt agave nectar...

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Soliloquy: Jack Dunn

You’re in a car. You’re in command. Your hand is on the steering wheel. The fields are blowing before you.

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Which Treats Of Pedro’s Obsession With His Books Of Pugilism

He read about Vermelho’s conquests in the Hindquarters; the esoteric Flying Sand style of the Brothers Du; the seedy underworld of smugglers, gauchos, and vigilantes who haunted the border region of Brazil Self-Governing Principate and the Republic Formerly Known as Argentina;

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“Junk in the Trunk”

The last time Kaylee Prince ever saw anyone about a disability or a deficiency was the ninth of November, 2010, inside a taupe, taupe room staged with a surfeit of Mirós, a ticket in her hand. “Is this how this works?”

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The Leaks

She was the kind of mother who let you watch R-rated movies at indefensible ages. She was culturally Catholic—though non-proselyte—and protested few of Catholicism’s tenets. She was more of a lunch-line Catholic, Jacquelyn was, picking and choosing which tenets to go with [see Kaylee, a squeaky three years old, chewing a slimy white balloon she found in Mommy’s and Daddy’s bedside wastebasket]. Those that she did choose, she clung to with Vatican zeal. All Angelica’s and John’s friends liked her (Mary Louisa was probably reading at the given time). She was the kind of hip, religiously-adherent and community-respected mother who could sashay with a rosary and crucifix in the a.m. and tear donuts through a cul-de-sac in the penguinine minivan come midnight, to the mouthwatering of eighth-grade John’s friends, riding in the back, hootin’ and hollerin’ about how cool Mrs. P was and not minding at all that she used words like “hip”. She was known to take a charitable position toward the Jews.

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The Incidents; An (Optional) Appendix

“—I’ll be perfectly honest with you, Vicky, I’m not too sure I’m comfortable with what this book is trying to say.”

The Hank Paulson-looking figure kept nodding in the corner and going “Mm. Mm.”

“—And you know how I try to put myself in the mind of the child, as in what would a child think.”

“I see what you’re saying, Rex.”

“—And here I am I’m reading this book, and I’m thinking as I’m reading this—”

“With you, chief. Just jotting some notes on this post-it pad right here.”

“—Right. And I’m being perfectly honest with you. I mean I think we could all agree that I make a conscious effort when I do this. How I try to empathize with the child, how I try to think like a child.”

“And you are very good at that, sir, is the overarching consensus.”

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The Token Forbidden Fruit of the Denouement Property

The only computer at the house of 6364 Beersheba Dr. is a prototypal i-Cloud Port, one of the first models to enjoy warm but not yet hegemonic commercial success. It was gifted to Jack Dunn upon the successful completion of an ad campaign that led to what essentially may be called a market takeover. Jack at the time already had an i-Port. His thirty-one-year-old sister-in-law, a newlywed and professed societal nonconformist, who had settled in Florida on the pretense of love, did not.

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