Most discussed stories

Better Days

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I peeled off a hundred. For the screwdriver, I said. The kid shook his head, made a pushing-away gesture. You need it worse’n I do right now, he said.

I Am the Poetic Kiss of Death

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My poems have appeared in four different publications; three have died shortly after they ran my stuff. Coincidence, or something more sinister?

2-100-Words

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The woman who lives on the first floor once loved dancing naked for her lovers.

Basic Principles of Physical Space

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a body lost in thought stays hopelessly lost in thought for as long as the latte lasts and the coffee shop stays open and the moms don’t gather with their baby carriages and the bums don’t bum overly much and the trust funders don’t lose too

Somebody Loves You

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When I look at the picture on my refrigerator, I always think the same thing: "Hitler was a baby once too, look how well he turned out."

2 Good Hubcaps

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I got 2 good hubcaps I'm feeling kinda low Instead of tooling down the highway I been going really slow Don't wanna lose another I can't afford that now Just passed my country store And hit my cousin’s cow How come I still keep drivi

Story by Committee

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The past has no flavor.

Improvisational

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This is not her death. This is absent-minded omniscience. This is impossible. And then again, the inside-out, implosion. And the hall was clogged with bodies; none of them hers, but who could be sure?

We Cannot Cross the River

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We cannot cross the river until it freezes. Bekker predicts January. For food we gather leaves, berries and roots from the thick forest behind the cabin. Suarez boils what we find into a revolting paste that we spoon into our mouths with dirty fingers.

I Wonder About the Trees

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I stole forth dimly in the dripping pause

The Application of Birds

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I know someone in need of healing.

The Dotards

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We played synthetic derivative punk. We used Donald Trump tweets as lyrics.

Barnyard 1961

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The boy heard loud barks and squeals, climbed on a chair, and looked out the window at the barnyard and the faded blood red barn.

Rust

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We lived in a white and mint green trailer in the woods. I was 23. The hanging of the clothes on the line made me feel kind of famous in the eyes of nature

Spain

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Where scenery is property and time is a straight edge; where the clouds are billowed and still; where one sees a tinfoil ocean and perspective to the east; where the static waves begin to move; where an immobile sky rustles and kneels. Our eyes looking still are the…

Barbarian(s) Within the Gates

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This writers' conference (sponsored by VQR, which had run its banner ad atop the Fictionaut home page in the summer of 2014, which begins to explain both my attendance and this essay) revealed itself as an apt subject . . .

Honey Gold

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your light is gonna last me through the week

No Cheese

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My supper consisted of no cheese My marriage consisted of no violin

Liquids

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The bar sounds grew (as bar sounds will) until everything rushed together -- clinking glass, tinkling ice, laughter and zippers going down then up.

Bees in the Eaves

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We write in darkness. We love in alleys. We breathe into beige paper bags. Anything to mollify the confusion. Anything to simplify the math.

A Tale Of Three Titties

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"Someone should have told her that less is more..."

The Maple Leaf Club

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One of his operas was confiscated when he couldn’t pay a hotel bill. He ended up in a mental home, demented from syphilis.

Still More Rock Groups I have Known

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More Rock Groups I Have Known and/or Been In

Stop

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The dead girl was his niece’s daughter. Only thirteen years old.

Ashes to Ashes

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Day by day people went missing. Reports of the ads being answered with a robocall solution to their problems were at first unconfirmed. Yesterday my best friend told me his emotional distress call was going to be channeled into a free trip to what he call

For Fathers Day 2014

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Divine guidance. That's why Dad used a blowtorch to set the jug on fire, its contents the “Devil's elixir.”

TOP TEN LIST

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It was only two days before Christmas.  Jonathan remembered his mother crying.

Cookie Monster's Harem in the Sky

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Last week I came home early from work and caught my wife having sex with the Cookie Monster.

Check

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When Quince came rolling up into my front yard that morning, we were up to our neck in August, staring down a seventh-grade year that had crept perilously close when we weren’t looking. I’m thirty-five years clear of it now, and I can still sense Texas on

Nowhere Is Everywhere

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I got fired once because I couldn't make change. I knew this going in. Friends and family all pushed me to take a job behind the counter at a health food store. I kept insisting I couldn't make change. Seriously. My mind goes blank. If someone hands me a five dollar…