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You don’t want to get a reputation for being aloof by not joining in the fun at a Super Bowl party. What you need is verbal “gamesmanship,” a conversational technique that can be used to fend off the bores who make up the majority of communal football-wa
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If I have not heard of it it doesn't matter. My hearing is a life force.
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Performed October 21-22, Gallery 263, Cambridge, Mass. Kathy-Ann Hart, the Hostess; Ryan Wenke, Ubu; Tyler Catanella, Alfred Jarry; the author--technician.
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"I don't hear anything..." whispered Hannah. We had just reached the hatch at the top of the maintenance chute.
"Open it quietly, take a look around and if it's clear we climb out as silently as possible, OK go." Responded Pedro. His caution betraying h
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The promise of free food and drink was too much to pass up since I hadn't played a gig in months and was living on peanut butter and celery. When Kelly called I was too hungry and thirsty for drink to turn him down.
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Hollywood is the land of the slow no.
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Within seconds, I strip her free of all that she wears. Her toes are polished the color of plump pink tulips.
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7. Using Cohen's Method of Structure craft a piece of fiction featuring unexpected conflict. (12 points)
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Sir Reginald Lionel Windsworth described the match in Englishmen's Lahore Gazette as, "A plethora of mistakes and complete absence of human sense."
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this one was abandoned... a splinter left under the skin, pushed out by protective flesh
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How much more attuned he was when surrounded by forest, consigning meaning to each tiny sound.
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Fragment’s of ignorance strewn by a haphazard hand
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Allen would stroll the remains of the orchard, reminiscing with Tad, flirting with dementia.
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Rob thought he might even make it. He'd stopped off south of Seattle, in Kent, and filled up the tank and went back in the can and topped off again. He got back on the road, to all appearances blase, blase. The montages were muted, at least for…
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We are what we are, and that is zombies.
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When I get my legs pumping, I’ll pop a spoke if I'm not careful. Massive fucking energy! And all that fat I was talking about? I don’t even really have that much of it, any of it really. My body fat is like one percent, which the doctors tell me isn’t
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Dear Fictionaut Family,Some of you may recognize my name and remember reading my work, some of you may have joined more recently and be wondering what the hell I'm doing addressing you directly. I began writing on Fictionaut in 2010, during four years as I was fragmenting…
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Dear Vagina,You are my oldest and dearest friend. We have been through so much together, haven't we? I remember the first day I really got to know you. It was about eighteen years ago. I thought I was dying, but it turns out I wasn't. …
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I offer you an orangeYou say you'd prefer an appleI offer you an orangeYou say, noI want an appleYou say you had a bad experienceWith eating an orangeHmm, I sayYes, but what does it matter?You say you are not eating the orangeUnder no circumstances will you everEat an…
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Max sighed. Solving for x was boring, so mind numbingly boring that he didn't notice the flickering blue light hovering in his room. It crackled and popped, growing until a shimmering rectangle stretched from floor to ceiling.A hand pushed out from the rectangle, and a…
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I break your flesh
and make music
on the harp of your bones.
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On her lunch break, she dumps Luis for Daniel Towens, the ugliest man in the county.
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Where was my real soul mate, I wanted to know, and why were there no twitchy children on my lap, and how had I been so dumb to believe that beauty's currency would never run out? So, Paris....
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The voice is back! That voice, like milk and honey, like mother, like the school nurse who bandaged my scraped knee.
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On an overcast and humid day in August, Jesus—with Dad’s permission, of course—decided to make his grand return.
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Chills begin on my hand where his cool lips meet my skin and ripple through me. I try to focus on the road and cock my eyebrow. “Not bad for a 15-year-old.”
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We’re going to talk about our future like the Rick Dees Weekly Top 40. Like there are 40 great songs this week about our future.
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I remembered our wedding reception. I tasted the crab cake, pulled her from greeting people, said, you have to try. And she did.
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The reaction had started, the hives and respiratory swelling. Maddy huffed for air, each inhalation rattling her throat louder, more hoarse.
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Can’t seem to put your clothes on today. You’re wandering in the little closet of your mind again, picking at socks that won’t stay up, shirts that are always too big -
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