1943 8 6
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"Love, against the dying of the light." (An unusual story about George Whitman, former owner of the revered & beloved Shakespeare & Company bookstore in Paris, France.)
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1942 13 9
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Dear Fictionaut Family,Some of you may recognize my name and remember reading my work, some of you may have joined more recently and be wondering what the hell I'm doing addressing you directly. I began writing on Fictionaut in 2010, during four years as I was fragmenting…
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1942 3 3
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I can tread water like this for months maybe longer
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1942 3 2
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You call the shit in this paper news? ‘Dog Accidentally Shoots Man With His Own Gun, Swedish Man Bursts Into Flames on Train Platform, The Truth About Elvis's Hidden Extraterrestrial Daughter.' Seriously? Enough about Elvis already.
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1942 0 0
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There’s an old journalism adage, usually uttered by editors who haven’t had their butts out of a comfy leather newsroom chair in years, which goes: “You know… the news just doesn’t walk in the door.” ... But sometimes, it does.
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1942 1 1
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"Ah, finally the rain stopped pouring!" She opens the window to let the sticky air out of the house. The colours outside have changed. The air is clear and the sky turns into light pink while the sun is drowning at the horizon. She takes a deep breath. The…
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1941 1 1
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What? No, no, where did my world go? I was in the middle of… something. What's going on? What's stroking my face?
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1941 1 1
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“They picked me up in their spaceship about noon,” Austin Grantham says to me while pulling up an apple crate to use as a stool.
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1941 12 9
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the Great Way itself is very smooth and straight,/but folks take to the challenge of rough, wild roads.
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1941 7 6
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She realised that things you can't prove can be more intimate than the things you know to be true.
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1941 24 17
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He wore his hip in his hips, his lipsShe wanted to know if he would lick the edgesWhen he pulled the coffee cup from his mouthA bit of foam clung to his moustacheShe watched it there, wondering if he wouldTwirl it off with his fingersOr lick it, his tongue darting out like…
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1941 0 0
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Jack thinks I should carry a loaded gun in my purse.
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1941 5 3
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a beautiful cool quiet day
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1940 0 0
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Where was it? Tino wondered, craning his neck, plastic bag in hand. He would have sworn there was a Barnes & Noble along this stretch. Had it closed since his mother had last been in the hospital two years ago?
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1940 23 16
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They will take you, naked,
and put their tongues and fingers
into intimate, erogenous openings
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1940 11 5
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Hippy health food. It all began with Hannah’s homemade granola.
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1940 9 3
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She wrapped her legs around him. His hand barely held the rope and later he could not have said if it happened above or below the water’s surface.
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1939 0 0
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It seems every time we get together, Seiko is there. She just started working in Keiko's department and now they're always together. I think Keiko feels responsible for Seiko. Like if Seiko's not getting any, it's bad manners for Keiko to do it.
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1939 13 4
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. . . she didn’t bow her head.
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1939 10 3
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He wanted me to learn the business, to become the son he always wanted but never had. I eagerly complied.
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1939 0 0
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No news spreads faster than news of a death. Word of the death of a child can be heard simultaneously in a thousand places. . . the word spread by telephone, in back yards from clothesline to clothesline, with whispers in grocery stores, in the looks on faces stunned into…
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1939 2 1
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Enter Tipitina’s – the rotation hole
where electric, shoeless uncles
allocate their copper goulashes
to catch white dripwater.
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1939 6 6
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She sang will you still need me
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1939 6 2
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The question posed a voluptuous riddle. Were these frenzied silhouettes
gestures of Jackson Pollock’s dribble?
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1938 10 6
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It’s always fun and easy/
to punish the poor
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1938 17 15
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There he was. Minnesota Fats, short and pudgy, jowly and blond-haired.
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1938 2 1
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For ten minutes I would have to sit perfectly still on the edge of her bed, thinking of Road Runner and the Flash and wishing I could do anything but sit there with my feet in warm, foamy water.
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1938 8 7
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Don't sleep. Tiny orange Balloons like seahorses are bobbing This way and that trying To get your hair to lift Off its marvelously mud- Swamped and pillowy support beams, blue sea strand by green. Don't you want to see…
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1938 18 15
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I murdered my inner child/
at 7 and neither denied/
nor confessed the act until now.
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1938 19 11
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