Alphabetical stories

The 5 Senses of the Apocalypse

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The Rapture comes and goes unannounced in carbonated soda bubbles spicing the air.

The 6 Rules of Shoes

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4. If you wear size 13, you'll trip a lot.

The 83rd Meridian West

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The priest went into the place in those parts, the priest an old pear or grape gotten ripe and then moreso, but never actually expiring . He was hunched and it looked like he was broken at some integral part, but nobody could tell for sure where. One time, a bat…

The Abandoned Shoe Project

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It’s the unfinished sentences Of the children on our refrigerators That worry me the most It’s the Fake News It’s all the people Living in their shopping carts Without shoes It’s the abandoned shoe On the street And the Abandoned S

The Absolute Goes Round In Circles

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.

the absolute pearl of existence

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I see it now. This is like the blind flash of the mind going off inside, where memory begins to make up its own stories. And the women are often drawn, painted, sung about, while the men are not, so often. What is it about us that they cannot resist loo

The Abstracted Man

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The abstracted man lacks an inside. He is a body. A shell. An exterior that encompasses nothing.The abstracted man yearns to fill himself with adjectives. He lumbers through streets. No adjectives fit. He finds adjectives where we discard them. He carries them in his…

The Abyss at the End of Life

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When I hear her voice Repeating over and over Will you help me? Will you help me? I get very, very sad Have you seen Rose and Fanny? She asks They died 30 years ago, dear Oh Will you help me? Over and over Will you help me? I g

The Accidental Arsonist

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Henry yells at her when she lights cigarettes and candles. But this is her small secret ritual, her way of making good with the god she is no longer sure she believes in...

The Accidental Voyeur

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He had wanted to lick lucidity, curl his tongue and take it back inside his mouth, curl it all the way down his throat, let it bulge inside his neck, feel it snake into his stomach, and come out into the netherworlds with warmth and satisfaction.

The Accordion

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If I play my accordion too loudly while you're painting, you complain. You stamp about in your room under mine. You fetch the broom from the closet and use it to thump vehemently on the ceiling. I feel the vibrations through my feet.

The Ache of Logic

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There is a the reason for the theft of people and the melting of gold

The Actual Poets

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And here’s a picture of you at the end of the line to the great toilet of fiction, waiting to relieve yourself, quick before the poetry gets to you. Or worse, the actual poets.

The Adventures of Tequila Kitty: Chapter 3 - by Brian Lepire

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I’d made it to the motel parking lot when I heard the footsteps. A sombrero may make me look good, but it does shit for my hearing, so the bastards were able to scoop me up real quick. The first one gave me a hard slap on the top of the head with an opene

The Adventures of Tequila Kitty: Chapter One - by Christopher Chik

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That’s how I’d met him really: drinking games. We’d both been at the local watering hole, challenging the other patrons to drunken games of chance and making a clean sweep of it. A few guys figured themselves for alpha dogs had Teqs cornered after he’d ta

The Adventures of Tequila Kitty: Chapter Two: Confessions of a Crazy Cat Lady - by Aimee Hamel

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He took off his sombrero and playfully placed it on my head. “And really, don’t be upset. You’re fine. There’s nothing wrong with loving your cat.” He was right, there is nothing wrong with loving your cat. But there is something wrong with owning a di

The Adversary

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When He had built the Universe, there was no greater joy in putting it together. The angels themselves were perfect constructs of concept and design, embodiment of breathing principle over particle waves. They each had their purpose; each mortar or a supp

The Affair

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Mine lasted 90 days. But don't they all? After we made love the first time, it was early November, I remember, some internal part of me shot upward with a laughter that would not stop. Something…

The After

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I watched her look at mewithout any eyes.She turned her head as wesat on the edge of the bed.Instead of eyesthere were hollow indentations of soft tissue,bulbs, and closed,tissue sown, pinched togetherwith pulls and zigzagslike crosshatching, where…

The After-Sex Song

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After sex he would get on his old refurbished upright piano and always play that same song. We came to know it as the After-Sex Song. It was really quite lovely, and touching. I think it made us all feel better around that building. Yeah, I remember t

The After-Sex Song

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You could hear her coming from a long way off as she kept trying to catch her breath, like she was getting the fun rattled out of her bones. But it was laughter, laughter that kept on filling up her belly from the inside, and she was having tr

The Afterglow

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I knew we were going to fail. The night we met, when we got out of the car, I dropped my green glove in that puddle, you picked it up but it was ruined. That set the precedent for our whole life together. You can't look at me anymore. My cigarette…

The Ageing Beaver

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This was just noise now – pure, raw noise, grabbed from their throats and flung high by some sharp claws of violence buried in their breasts. Even from his third floor apartment, they sounded like they were right outside his window now. It was if they h

The Agreement

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Our Irish tradition is rich in Yeats, drenched in Bushmills.

The agreement

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It felt like he'd just taken his marriage out into the woods, forced it to its knees, and put a bullet through its head. Or they had, together.

The Alarm

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Rain pours through the ceiling and the building's fire alarm sounds repeated bursts of loud abrasive distortion 1 2 3

The Alarm

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Harris Tobiasharristob@gmail.comThe Alarm A terrible clanging in the middle of the night roused me from my bed. I put on some clothes and hurried into the street there to mingle with my bleary eyed neighbors. At first we thought it was a fire but there was…

The Albatross

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Gigantically heaping past the dawn, White rider, swinging circles into light, Do you cross the spar-lengths of meridians, O albatross, conspirant of the thought The sea dreams of its relic mastery? Rainbowed reliquary of…

The Alchemist

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A new constellation in the sweet hereafter.

The alcohol is on my mind, on my mind, on my mind

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The alcohol is on my mind, on my mind, on my mind