Most discussed stories

Don't Mangle the Mongol

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Back in the Dark Ages, the Mongols invented the first hamburger pattie. They put slabs of beef under their horses' saddles and after a few miles of rough riding -- voila! a flattened piece of cow meat. They then proceeded t

Character Witness

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You will say how easy it was to love him, How he is kind, gentle, Quick to rub your shoulders in the evening And never one to forget an anniversary. They will ask you of his interests, moods, pass-times And you will silently think of…

The Reluctant Exhibitionist

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“Why won't you let me watch you?”My stomach twisted with anxiety at his question, but also with excitement. Tim, my boyfriend of a year and a half, lathered soap on my back as we stood under the hot shower spray. He loved these post-sex showers as much as I…

For As Long As We Both Shall Live

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"Of course I know," Aidan rocked him gently in his arms. "I know, and I don't care. You need help carrying that stuff around, cause it really sucks to carry it around alone. I know, I've watched you. But baby, we're in this together now."

Exchange Student

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Sometimes he could feel so small he believed he could fit through the eye of a needle.

Fishers of Hope

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June Day sprinted with urgency through the halls of the Armistice. Whenever she passed a window looking out into space, if it wasn't already covered, she didn't bother looking out, but not because of her hurry; no one did anymore. She was young, but the…

Our Last Tea Party

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It’s the Tea, stupid. Drink up.

The Inkblot Test

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“Regard this inkblot,” the Psych says to Worker 168. “What do you see?” Worker 168, a thin young women wearing overalls, peers at the inkblot. “I see a beautiful summer day,” she says. “A young woman, wearing a flowing dress, sits…

60 is the new 20

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I once saw a TV commercial that showed a group of Anglo retirees laughing around a card table. The slogan 60 is the new 20 floated beneath their fat, fun-loving heads. My parents are bona fide Baby Boomers. Their lives are build on credit and catchy…

Eighth Wonder of Mississippi?

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Lula’s fried chicken should be served on the hem of Jesus’s robe rather than out of a styrofoam box. It’s so good that I kept glancing at the little tray on the steam table, hoping to be hungry again, ready to yank pieces out of the grasp of strangers, to

Walking To Gibraltar, Chapter 3: In Which Everyone Was Wrong

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What's the protocol for telling people your spouse has cancer? How do you tell your son, your friends, your co-workers? How do you tell your mother? How do you tell her mother?

otherwise, chaos!

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The tongue touches the lip, looking inward, remembering. The head nodding yes. Staring directly at the memory like an animal, while the crowds pass by, and occasional phrases materialize out of the air. We live and love and create. Yes we do. Otherwise,

Sense and Sensibility Too

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http://fictionique.com/?p=15975

A Brief, Protracted Reflection

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...Loves and fights and retires; / And dies.

Have You Ever

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Have you ever Felt As if you were Alone In the world?

cheap idol of possession

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And how the stars in your eyes exploited you. And the pollen-bearing moon shows its sex, and the years open their cards and splay them out on the table for all to see. And you come home from all the nipples of your Trojan Wars like Ulysses, and lie down

on the morning of my final

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And there was one girl from Ireland, with her thick Irish brogue, who came into my bedroom early on the morning before my final exam for my Masters degree in the writing program at Irvine. She knew I was so nervous about taking the exam that I hadn’t sl

11am, Sunday, in Green

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The eyelid of the sink blinks silence. The clocks choke on smoke.

Knowing the Ending

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“No!” Shouted Jon. “I don't get it!” Clarissa stared at her hands in her lap and tried not to cry. She knew it was her fault they were there. She was the one who cheated. But she could not understand why Jon wanted, no needed, to…

Five Million Yen: Chapter 33

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This will take forever. I’ll never get to Antibes to meet Isabella, much less make it to Marseille to deliver the picture and then catch the overnight train to Paris. I may have to call Jean-Claude Lyon, the orchestra manager of the Monte Carlo orchestra,

The Last Appearance of God

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Talking about the event years later, all of the observers agreed to a surprising extent on God's details. God was not an old man with a beard, nor a halo of light, nor a burning bush. God was an absence, a disruption of vision. When you looked right at Go

Getting There

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Her light blue eyes fixed on a point to our left, past one of the church steeples poking out of the flat, charred ground – like a toothpick protecting a birthday cake from its cellophane ceiling; an untouched bethesda keeping the never-blue sky from crash

YOU ARE A FRIEND, SEWING TRAIN

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over taking the sky before near blindness, a clipping occurs

Metro Blues.

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She had no eyes that I could see. Just a pair of lips; they looked soft

5 Poems In The Shape Of Other Poems

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the things we will accomplish, the things we will leave to others

Arcana Magi Zero + Pure - c.1

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A Nocturne, whose grey mana seeped out of it mouth, grabbed the roof of the building with its large claws. Using it as leverage, it stood itself up, hunched over, its long whale like head roared like a loud horn.

Circularity (story fragment)

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Ian Markham stood before the massive triangular window of Circularity's pyramidal office building. Its Technicolor hologram, a coup in advertising sloganeering, urgently flashed the company's ubiquitous tagline—IT'S NOT JUST AN ADVENTURE. IT'S A SECOND CHANCE! …

The Messenger, Chapter 2

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"Something happened to me, Rasul, and I got these powers for a reason ... then I just happened to have a karaoke buddy who happens to have grown up in a family of magicians, who knew something about what I was going through?  That's *fate*!"

Castor and Pollux

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Over the stained fence the spectres flew and that is where the rain was turning colder and colder in the time when the trees had become mostly bare.

The Fields

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Swat at those screeching children with tufts of harp-grass. Flail, mad eyed and sad sighed with all gleaming hope gone out of the daylight. Swat and screech swat and screech. We continue until their thick bark-like hides are smooth and polished. We sand them with…