Most discussed stories

Insect Ethics

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Let’s just say I’m pissed. Indignant. Angry about living in a universe that appears to be utterly amoral.

Living in the Death Industry Could Kill You; The Q&A

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Q: Tell me briefly about how you got into the death industry.

Pictures of False Hope

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We were busy painting pictures of False Hope on the face of Reality. Tattoos really. But they faded with time. And I now know this: Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be. I saw an older writer in a slouched-down Fedora, gray beard and long sc

Cover Story

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Love among the ruins?

Latte Art

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The barista with the fake rainbow nails and amazing cleft. . . .

Departures

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Abigail dragged the monkey Nathanial, her favorite plush toy, in the red dust as her parents moved crummy looking cardboard boxes from the house into the back of the custard colored Winnebago. This wasn't the first time she had ever seen a Winnebago; her friend…

A Small Piece of the Night Life

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It made him feel better to imagine she was someone else, someone he didn't know. This comfort bothered him

Joking

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I don't care much for Joking, which is not to say that I don't care at all for Joking, just that I don't care much. I would say, if I had to say, that I care for Joking about as much as I care for a cousin, not a close cousin, one I have a genuine frien

The Master of Sleep

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The Master of Sleep had lived alone for many years, so when his daughters first moved into his house he welcomed them, seemingly glad for their company...

King Street Station

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Despite the newly bright bricks and the working clock, Cassie couldn't help but take a deep breath before entering King Street Station. She had always tried to hold her breath when her family cut through it on the way to Mariners games but had never succeeded, not…

Melodies with an Octopus

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The supervisor, sensing the fear in me, pats my hand and says "Never you mind! This is normal in the tomato. Every few days we rile up, make sauce, and regrow again. Have you ever been in spaghetti sauce before?"

Fargo

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“What does it feel like to run, Thomas?” I yelled across the field. Thomas was so fast. I would never catch up to him. Even if I could run. He was so fast. …

Romper Room with Beer

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Romper Room with Beer We go out for a thin New York Pizza at Lanesplitter’s over on Telegraph and watch the drunks staggering out of the bar across the street to have a smoke on the sidewalk, since you can’t smoke inside bars anymore. They ga

The Dooleys

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Mama told me never to play with the Dooley boys. They play too rough, they’re not to be trusted, and no one has seen Mrs. Dooley since she tried to clean out their tree house. Mama would always say, “You play with the Dooley Boys, you play with Satan.”

Squish-Squash

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Dan leaned back on his haunches and smoked. He was a massive man, not the type to sit like that. But he did. He sat like that, smoking and he said: “I feel like this kid I went to school with. Everybody called him Squish-Squash.” We asked him…

And the fucking black dress.

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The fucking black dress; the fucking black dress that obfuscates whether or not you're pretty in the face, that obfuscates the sound of your voice, that obfuscates the color of your hair, your eyez, your skin,

Galileo Worries About His Weight

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I, Seer of the Stars, Cartographer of the Cosmos, / measure my mass, and to whom do I owe this woe...

lucy, the ghost who liked it

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lucy had simply taken a kitchen knife and removed the outer layer, the layer of things people notice

bienvenue (a poem)

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if you lost your list on your way here i will help you get what you came for.

Requiem for a Laptop

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I don’t understand what happened. I keep pushing your buttons but you won’t do anything. You just lie there, cold and dead, staring back at me without any light and I feel like I’m going to cry.

the longing

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It’s the longing from another life inside that pulls me along by the fine hairs below my navel (at the exposed midriff) and by the short blonde hair at my neck, and by the dense bunch between my legs, if you can imagine. It’s the longing of the love I’v

Nope

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Can't cope.

The Legacy

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The old man had always known things, was feared and revered up and down the valley for knowing things. I’d heard the stories since the day I was born.

Asleep on His Helmet

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He wore a jacket with just a letter; by this conspicuous reserve he hoped to show the others it didn’t matter what you did last year, only who you hit in the here and now, and how hard.

Pageant Night

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All the baby monsters are being born on stage.

The Option Package

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he felt like ranting about cars.

The Monkeys and the Gun

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The young male sat off by himself and nursed his wounds and a grudge.

The Perfect Day

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Robbie Lange closed his laptop and leaned back in his chair. Yawning, he looked out the window into the black night. Another evening at the office, he thought. He counted the other lit windows in the skyscrapers around his building. “Goodnight, everyone

Parsing We

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An excellent plan. Just like old times.

Table for One

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He keeps re-reading the menu but knows already how it ends..