Most discussed stories

Extract from my Fantasy book

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Lucien ran through a burning vortex in desperation ignoring the cries of his friend. It was a flux of Satanic majesty. The floodlight of the fire was incredibly grim, but it did not hurt his eyes. Have you ever seen painted glass windows in a cathedral built by the…

All Seeing

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Our Core Values define evil as the concealment of information. And those who conceal information are evil.

The Glass Bowl

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I caught a fragment of a charged argument as I passed them. The young man said, “Well, I am talking about love.” And the young woman with equal volume checkmated with, “Well, I am talking about money.” Though their lives were none of my business, this exc

Aluminum Canoe

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"Don't stab me with that," says John.

The Sticking Point

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I felt dark, dark...

The Big Cross

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I hope you and asshole are having a good time.

All Wet

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the small break of consciousness that is my dreamswaterso much wateri can never forgive the watertoo many tears

Splitting

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The promise felt heavy in my chest, made it difficult to breath. It was scary to set out to change something that felt so engrained into my own wiring, in my ability to survive & cope in the world.

A Night at the Plywood Palace

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You find a wall to lie down against and focus your eyes on an orange light. You no longer hear any music. You are lying down at the bottom of a dark, green, filthy pool, holding your breath and looking up at the sun.

Measures

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Pascal would let something slip now and then. He was sharp and spoke excellent English, with a beautiful Spanish accent. He corrected speech among the guys, but he exercised his lessons in grammar with an eloquence that fascinated all of us, not letting a

The Echoes of Infinity

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Marilyn turned the kayak away from the target ship, barely visible after all these years, toward the shallow waters by the shore. She recalled her father holding her hand at low tide, as she looked up at him and he told her…

Poet's Offer to Help Grieving Goes Unheeded

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Remembering you is easy We do it every day, When little Mike and Joey Ask when the hell is Daddy ever coming home to play?

Suicide Machines

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["Mea Culpa" means: I don't care what you think, sorry is when I feel like making you hear me say it.]

The Ghost's Tale

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Don’t worry, she said It’s not blonde down there But she is wrong It’s just as blonde down there As anywhere The light down along her arms For instance The down along her cheek On the back of her neck Her thighs Apparently I am n

Changes Are

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When people drastically change everything about themselves repeatedly, don't they eventually just end up alienating everyone?

Glance

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I saw a former lover today, by complete accident.

Dormilona

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These fern-like weeds grow along the roads. “Watch this,” you say, bending down over a plant. The touch of your fingertip sets it recoiling, stunned–a fun, jungle trick you picked up somewhere along your way.

Quiet (from Grand Street literary journal)

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I know it’s nobody’s fault, and that one thing had nothing to do with the other, because it was this way for me since I was born; they just didn’t figure it out for a while that with one of my ears I could hardly hear, and with the other, I couldn

Contagious Blinking

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He pulls on his wispy goatee and shifts his weight a few times from one foot to the other. That doesn’t help. It rarely does, to be honest.

Road Work '92

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This is how she does it: Forward………… ...Reverse..........…….....Forward..........……...Reverse

From The Files Of Mitt Romney, Bounty Hunter: Genesis

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Mitt looked at his one-time running mate and took a deep breath. He was beginning to think that throwing all of his money and belongings into the ocean and eloping to Key West with Paul Ryan was a bad idea. Paul had turned out to be more needy than a danc

The new year begins

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martyred young women lie in hospital beds

Grandma

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It was a subtle change. Jeffrey's grandmother was never graceful. Her figure was like a garbage bag filled with rounded masses of leaves and the unexpected angle of the odd stick, the entire shambling affair draped in soiled and yellowed hand-knit clothing…

Annabelle

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Jess threw her books on the bed then grabbed a notebook from a shelf and slammed it onto a writing table. It made a hard pop gunshot sound. Flinging open the book, a page tore. Her diaries were named Annabelle. It was with a blue felt tip pen that she wrote: …

What Day is it?

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My mind is on idle as it knows no other way to go. I look for good news, but if there is any, will I be able to process it?

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame must burn!

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This is a call to burn down the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum. It is everything wrong with our culture boiled down to one location. Ground Zero of hypocrisy. The spot where the very spirit of rebellion has been stolen by corporate America.

Dark Site

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Though some days... I feel as though I'm nothing more than the ultimate hedged-bet should the offender be living out his last days on earth, holding my arm as we both feel our way through the long dark corridors of tragedy.

The Pain of Memory

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It's awfulYou remember everythingYou never forgetEvery insultEvery bruiseEvery scarEvery burnEvery nickEvery blow You never forgetI never forget The pain of memoryYou think you forgetBut you never forgetThe dread of some wholly misfortuneThe pain that left you…

A Bead Was Lost

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Bully of the Town

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The woman was dancing, holding her bottle in the air as she slowly turned around, blocking the way to the exit. “I asked Miss Pansy Blossom if she would wing a reel,” she sang.