Most discussed stories

Poya Day

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Prabo was late. It wasn’t like him, I thought, sitting on the steps of the Galle Face Hotel, the Indian Ocean pounding the beach abutting the nearby Galle Face Green and spraying fine mist everywhere. Or at least it didn’t seem like him.

He Dreams of a Small Boat at Sea

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He dreams again of ocean devoid of shore

formation of a black hole

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who can quite say/when careless talk & confidence/slips into that other charged thing/so minimal at first

Patsy Cline Sings Crazy

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over much howling of poetry and things that act as if they were dying

The Continuum of Flames

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Molly was from dull and wet Kansas City, Missouri, where she learned to pass the time in the many record shops and bars that lined it's inconspicuously storied streets, catching the attention of a young red blooded all American Kansas City man, from time

Chennai

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I go to the seaand turn myself over in my hand like a shell: a hollow conch carried on the resonance of a song long past its singing. My heart is a well and this city, one that is forever in drought.

Bougainvilla Drive

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blue plexiglass skateboard is holding the light of a turmeric sun. jacob turns it this way and that and lets it sit on its side atop parking curbs. denim legs canvas feet. looking down sign ridden streets and squinting. sometimes sun showers leak out. cotton…

The Vermeer of Shoes

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My flash kept going off. The museum officials are strict about such matters. Sans flash! Sans flash, Monsieur!

The Umbrella

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Three Short Pieces

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#spotify / Elevators / Sky Burial Monologue

Lovelandtown Tavern

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James Hubert III sat at the bar. It was late. His wife and kids were long in bed and he knew he should be, too. But with the Lovelandtown lift bridge stuck in mid-air, a drink beckoned him. He sat next to Vince DeSantos, a small, stout man, with a bowling

No Party, No Disco

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Ninety-nine to one would seem good odds

Thanatos Collective

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the cocksucking of strategic death planning

Three Thirds

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"I was hit by an Amtrak train and dragged a hundred feet, and I'm going to die from smoking cigarettes."

Now

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I'm looking for the perfect/passage, a safe, sound/jettison to now.

Tale from a Möbius Strip

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Francesca is a sweet girl and everything, but her incessant doting on Paolo is best left private . . .

Song Without Wonder

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What I’ve got is priceless, but no one wants it. Hmmm. I wonder if I can give it away, or have to haul it to the dump? What I have is priceless. Priceless. What I have is priceless, but no one wants it.

HOTEL PEOPLE

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It's 6:45 a.m. A gritty, mundane sort of magic pervades the air at "Valentine’s" in the Hamilton Hotel.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 33

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She’s a gourmet cook who can fake a great orgasm.

Man In The Blue Scooter

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The Window

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Just beyond the tree, beyond the fence, close to the grey clouds that hung almost to the earth, a boy sat on another tree's stump. Beneath his crossed legs that he moved up and down rhythmically, under his bright red, Superman shorts, inscribed in the stump, a symbol which…

Of Mugs and Men

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I want to break that mug. (Break him.)

Crystal Tips

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by the time he's moves onto knives, she has appeared in next door's window: sliver of nut-pale belly, fingers wet with suds, nails painted bright as glitterballs.

Beaten

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I was sitting there drinking with Paul at the bar, and it was a Friday night and I was I was feelin good. I didn't have to go to work in the morning, and I had a few drinks and food in me, and I able to that on da cheap, which felt good. And Paul…

The Madness of Mass Dance

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Outbreaks of mass communal dancing—sometimes referred to as “choreomania”—occurred in Europe with some frequency in Europe between the 14th and the 18th centuries.

The mannequins

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I try to enjoy my bookbut the mannequins keep tapping at the windowWhen I look up they vanish Outsidefibreglass clouds are kept in placeby invisible wires——Sometimes the mannequins …

Stuff

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Art books, paintings, antique chairs, marble tables, full length gold gilded mirrors, oriental rugs, tapestries, a Louis XVI painted French armoire, a wrought iron Deco coffee table, flat ware, silver flasks, mantel lamps, iron gates, a silk settee, theat

Exhibit

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Late in the morning, standing in line, clutching a bag of Meow Mix, I listen to the woman waiting behind me. She's having a cell phone conversation about the Treasures of Ancient Egypt exhibit. It‘s in New Orleans, she says, and the kids liked the mummy. I slide…

The People We Like

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How hard it is to pretend to be someone else. Alone, together, in the silence... I thought about how you must really like me to act quite like that. I wanted to hold your hand and read the unsent love letters.

NYQUIL DREAMS

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The capsules tumble around, one of them plinking against the crown in my upper-right jaw. I hate the crown… a mute reminder of the first time Brad hit me. Swallowing the capsules, my tongue probes the left side of my mouth, finding the other two crowns…