Alphabetical stories

All of My Facebook Friends Are Gonna Be Strangers

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I once knew a guy named Ian from Manhattan Who liked looking at New Yorker fey cartoons.

All Of My Monsters And Beautiful Women In Dreams

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1. Lamia I slapped the venomous dream from his mouth before he could spit in my eyes; fuck him and his rage, fucking Tonton Macoute or whatever he was--and I got the hell out and away from that house and the fires that raged on all floors, and I fled…

All that Remains

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The drapes are closed against the sunlight, but Ginny can feel someone in the room. She peers through barely open eyes so as not to let on she's awake. She adjusts her position in a way she hopes mimics sleep, turns her head to the side. A woman…

All the Bad Things About Hill House

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I felt the most afraid I’ve ever felt in my life, like all the unknowns in the universe were rushing through me at once.


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The apartment was a second-level place, so I went down the steps and looked through the stained glass window of the door. “Ah hell,” I said to myself. Raymond Carver and John Fante and Charles Bukowski were outside. I opened the door.

All the gaping mouths without a voice

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"Mammy, why do they throw sand in our eyes?" a girl could be heard screaming from the 30-foot-deep ravine, Babi Yar.

All the Pretty Boys

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Somewhere along the line he had also become a junkie, so he had a plastic bottle filled with methadone. I took a swig of that as we decided to jump in a cab and go to a dance club. It was a total shit-hole...


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The countdown is on and daily the propaganda gets more and more aggravating It appears at times that the news media dictate and orchestrate more that just report on events of diplomatic shock. A huge effort has gone in to covering this coming war and it…

All The Right Steps

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"I didn’t take my mother’s denial of my dream lightly. I wanted it desperately. I cried and pleaded, nagged and begged. On several occasions, I temperamentally got out of the car at a stop sign and walked. Once, my mother said that I was nagging her so mu

All The World's Cold

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An officer appeared and told us that we were already dead. We were already ghosts. As soon as you realize this, there is nothing to fear.

All there is

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You need buttered broths and to copy old writings by hand by very poor light.


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Joseph and his little brother, Kevin, were there again. Kevin was too small to understand what had happened yet. He would usually just go off, running around the statues and playing with the wreaths; the last time they'd visited he climbed a tree and broke one of the…

All Wet

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the small break of consciousness that is my dreamswaterso much wateri can never forgive the watertoo many tears

All Will Be Well

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Jesus will walk on the water. Judas will walk on a technicality.

All you need is a friend

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So, before he could brew with the crew, God decided to make one last trip to Earth, drawn by nostalgia and the prospect of watching a football World Cup from the stands. That is where He met Mini.

All You Need Is Love

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Now I know All you need is coffee

All-Night Cartoon Party

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'Hey, are you supposed to be from a cartoon or something?' said the Grim Reaper. I had to take a big drink before I could reply. I didn't know what to say, so I said 'Could I see your watch, please?' He looked down my dress while he thought about it.

Allegations of an Angelic City

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A very similar case to the others. Marked by calmness and improbability. To the layman, the calmness disproves the phantasm: If 8 million friends and neighbors were now dead and if thousands of megadreams cast into darkness, who wouldn't freak out? Who wouldn't scream and…

Allergic Reaction

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On his way to his first fishing expedition in the Bay Area, the man remembered the rustle and shimmer of the willows by the muddied Jemez River in New Mexico, cold beer, the clean camaraderie of childhood friends. He walked along a path choked with greenery to the San Pablo…

Allergic Reactions #1: Sun

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Well I too woke up and felt bitterly alive,outside there was this shining fish scale attack sunliterally smashing itself against the window like a crazed yet determined yellowbird of paradise but it just couldn't break through the little rows of shuttered…


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Antonio and Zeca met on the black and white pavement by Ipanema beach, a few days before Christmas. Zeca had flown in from London that morning. He came back regularly to Rio de Janeiro, often with his wife and kids, but he hadn’t experienced a Carioca sum

Almighty Pink Slip

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I fired God today. He wasn't showing up for work, slept through meetings, wrote ambiguous memos and killed too many innocents. Things just weren't working out.


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Almonds of childhood – fending off needless tears and chocolate impulses, almonds of my teens, slivered and toasted industrially baked settling in on egg washed croissant…mashed into the kitchen sink of the catch-all bear claw, then the taste and shiv


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"... you shake your head and look down as if I am a mongrel dog who has pissed the Tabriz..."


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The only time Terry and I came close to fucking, when she was still underage, I mean, was once when I went to see her at somebody’s apartment where she was baby-sitting. She invited me over to have pizza, I think. Of course, I brought beer. And we start


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From the way she scooped him from his buggy, shushed him, kissed his tears and hugged him...

almost a still life

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(a sidewalk poem)

Almost Like Love

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Because it was almost like love, love. Because the potential for that innocence beckoned me, and I became reckless in search of it. I exposed my heart.

Almost Like Real Skin

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...this dim and empty room, and behind a wall of glass a flag materialized, backlit and fluttering, and I am not saying what country's flag it was, just that it was a flag, that awesome symbol of the nation state and fervid jingoism...

Almost There

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On the phone I asked my mother how she was doing. “I’m getting old,” she said. “Going slow. But getting there. I’m ninety-four!” My mother was always 94, when she was really 93. I remember she was 93, right after she turned 92. And 92 when she was