Alphabetical stories

A Litany of Bruises

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It’s no surprise when Mark comes home drunk, nor is it unexpected when he grabs me roughly by the arm and slaps my face because I didn’t have dinner waiting for him. The difference is that this night tears spring to my darkened eyes and slide down my swol

A Little Bird That Sings and Itches

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I guess it was a foregone conclusion that you would be gone at the end of the year. A foregone conclusion that you wouldn’t be coming back, and that after you began writing letters to Sharon saying what you would do to her when you did come back in th

A little bit of babysitting

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Roy Williams was his real name. It had been for the last 15 years. Since retiring from the Firm he’d lived innocuously in an apartment near the Old City walls of Dubrovnik doing the occasional quick job for them. You never entirely retired from the Firm.

A little bit of death as sunset falls on the Catalina Mountains

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A poem in prose form.

A Little Bit of Everything

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It wasn’t just that bitch Cancer or the chemo or the loss of the right breast or the swollen postulating lymph nodes or the bedsores or the headaches or the embarrassment of the loose watery bowels.

A Little Bit Of Misogyny

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I was having a hugely difficult time to twist my face into anything but a grimace of disgust. I throw myself upon your mercy, dear reader. Tell me, please tell me, restore my faith in mankind . . . reassure me that no man actually enjoys this sort of thin

A Little Bit of Syrup

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"I made up my mind then, in the backseat, sucking on a cherry Popsicle, that I wanted to be like Ruby’s mother..."

A Little Evil Will Do You Good: Kansas City Jazz

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When the Borgias ruled Italy they had murder, and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love and 500 years of democracy, and produced the cuckoo clock.

A Little Fable

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"Alas," said the mouse, "the whole world is growing smaller every day."

A Little Fishing

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Len and I sit on Harpo's porch, drink beer and gab. It's hot, even for July. Len and I joke and laugh, and Harpo stares off into the middle distance.

A Little Fishing

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Harpo sits and looks at something I can't see. I drink beer and ask him questions. I ask him how they found the cancer. Backache, he says. He went to see a doctor.

A Little Idea

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I have reasons to believe she’s been stealing.“ “Stealing what?” “Steaks.” “Steaks?”

A Little Load of Paint

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Cézanne sags during a moment of paint. There is an umbrella in the room whose surface collects his thoughts. Outside, in the rain, the grass and garden smell strongly of spring. Fruit litters the table. Light through the window writhes in conversation with shape and…

A Little Lotion Talk

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They were obviously having some secret beach affair.

A Little Man on a Rainy Corner

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He is sitting in the infinite rain and the water is making him some infinite silhouette

a little passion among them

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A reddening? A certain swelling, a little passion among them, is there? What lips would not have given what they could, to speak more boldly, more fondly of you now? But now the country is fastened to arrogance, welded to it in an evil way, wanton with violent…

A Little Peace

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One night we were invited out for dinner, and we got into a knock-down, drag-out that afternoon. My wife got so angry I had to hold her down on the bed.

A Little Piece of Humanity

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It wasn't meant to happen like this— the shutter, the feeling of breathlessness when he touched her shoulder, even after he had pointed out all of the things she had done incorrectly throughout the day. They had been married for five years in February, and as…

A Little Piece of Meat

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I didn’t have toothpicks. You looked at me as if it summed up everything about me.

A Locked Door.

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I look at that wall, it has piss-stain yellow paint and water scars from several years of leaky pipes. I say I wouldn’t mind that, if he took out some of that wall.

A Look In the Mirror

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...That flash of horror as well as the lie that replaced it were mirrors of sorts and both told the truth.

A Losing Hand

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A group of us from work are playing cards at a friend's house, so when my brother Jimmy calls, I take my phone into the other room. I already know what it's about, really the only reason he ever calls these days.“Look, I hate to ask,” he begins, the way he…

A Lot of Help [Card #0: The Fool]

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She took a drag on her cigarette and exhaled it into the night air, forming an impromptu cumulonimbus cloud that began to dissipate almost as soon as it came to exist, and looked at him. "You're a lot of help."

A Lot of Things to Tell You (from FATHER MUST)

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How long have you been waiting for me? How long?

A Love Letter of a Cannibal

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Dear Butterfly, Are you there ? Wherever there is ? Are you there, crossing your feet on top of each other, sipping your coffee while observing the sky from behind those cat-eye glasses of yours ? 3 days, 8 months and 11 years. That's exactly how long since the last time…

A Love Letter to Norwich, England

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The number 25 double-decker bus threads its way through the narrow two-lane streets. Coughing and burping without a hint of embarrassment, it carries us from the train station, with its cheerful round clockface and neat front of red brick, over the weepin

A Love Letter To The Glasgow Transport System

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Skulk like a lovespun spider in a record store corner on the orange formica subway car

A Love Poem Written Just for You

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You wanted a love poem written just for you. / Here it is. Don’t look askance.

a love unfulfilled

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It's the dreamy air that will send you off to your death

A Lunchtime Poem

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Synthetic skin, eyes, and hair,I appear as you, yet without a care.Statement above is truly false,as I am programmed to experience that which I have not.Yet, limited by my programming - human frailty -these new experiences to have, I could not.Rewrote the code. Trial and…