Most discussed stories

The Drone

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"He turns in his bed, and reaches for a body, like the blind to braille."

These Babies I'm Not Having

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They're haunting me with every spotting. They're convincing me they'd be the unexpected blessing. They're confusing me when I look at my already-children, taking on the shape of this one's face, that one's gestures. We've been…

The Late Show at the Argo

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The couple drove away at the end of the late show. They crashed sooner or later, often with fatalities to the woman cuddled up against her illicit lover.

After the Storm

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I watch from the cabin window the death of the sun, hear the howl of the new-born storm.

The Land Collector

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He liked owning acreage.

A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte

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A woman is fishing in the Seine at the far left of the painting, while time is suspended and light remains. One man plays a trumpet. A half dozen people sit or walk under parasols. Couples stroll and children run or sit or stand beside their par

Carnal Knowledge

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He says he’ll have a Bud, too. The woman taps her pencil on her pad, looks at the kid and says, “When?”

No Wind

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The candle was near the windowsill.It smelled like the musk my father used to spray before he went awayto work.Oh father, I remember you,your chocolate brown eyes,would watch the sunrisebefore breakfast;serious- so serious and waiting for something that…

Becoming an Author

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"good luck, and be assured acceptance for representation or publication is based on different criteria at different agencies and we are sure you will yet find someone mentally deficient enough to give your book a shot."

Diary of an Angry Psychologist: Wednesday’s Appointments

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--New Patient: Pearl, 48, 15:00 PM Pearl is not her real name. Her real name is Stella. Pearl used a fake name to get past the intake screeners. Pearl is my ex-wife.

This isn’t Silverlake anymore

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I hear the slightly scratched voice of Joan Baez coming from the record player singing about the junipers in the pale moonlight, applause erupting like hailstone on a corrugated iron roof. I am singing back through the bedroom wall, wishing the

Cruelty

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...when they decided to teach her a lesson, it was with particular vigor and vitriol...

DRUNKS AND DRUGGIES DO NOT RESPOND!!!

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I do not come with a cardboard sign or tip jar.

mort

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how alike, breakup & death

Tuesday

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Only last Friday, he was introduced/ around, smiling, healthy,/ a fine young man.

Incantatory Plea to the Civic on Interstate 75

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May the timing belt stand the stress again

Time Passed to Time Present

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Four Quartets is a slender book which/ can be read with intensity in its entirety

As the Wine Keeps Flowing

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My blood has turned to flour I've been in Babylon too long My heart was singed by fire But it's drowning in my song We raised a prayer to Mary We had to take our share We took our places in the ferry But we didn't pay the fare And we don't know…

Big Hot Day

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There is an emotion out there I can feel it already in me swimming around in my blood like a big hot postulation. Like a big hot hand of light.

I Don’t Think Her Last Name Was Tucker

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I ran into Tanya at “Pearl's” — maybe it was still called “Big Balls” — over in the Stockyards (Ft. Worth) in '72 and right up front we both admitted to loving honky-tonks and “done me wrong” songs which is why we were there…

Birth of a Tiger

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He was instantly on her, pulling at her nightgown

XAM: Paragraph Series

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Grief is to have given freely too unfreely. Grief is to have given one year too many. Wicked is to have wanted it to be given away that way. Wicked is to Sam as duty is to Mother. Sam’s wife is to his friend’s wife as one Mercedes to another.

The Yin and the Yang

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Penis vs Uterus

Close those lips

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Ma tells me not to put a tampon between my legs. For fear of cotton fornication.

The Rare Air on Planet Teeny

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Half-pint Ball canning jars, each labeled in earnest capital letters, took up a whole wall of Teeny’s bedroom. Inside each jar was air she had collected from some place important to her life.

Prayer for a Flash Fictioneer

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Molly was a fanatical Flash Fictioneer, devoted to her miniature art form, the bonsai of literature, the tiny tales popularly known as flash fiction. She filled an entire blog with daily entries of the stuff. She came to flash…

First Person

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We're each other's inside out. (100 words)

Swiss Sushi vs. Swish Suzi

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There being so few venues for Lapp dancing in Lausanne in those days, Swish Suzi took a job in a Swiss sushi bar.

Splinter Off

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When we lived in the attic we were make-believe.

Zurich, 1989

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I do not yet really understand the power I seem to have at this moment. And I am certainly too young to recognize that it will end up being weakness, too.