Most read stories

Jumping Beans

19511951 views11 comment11 fav

The red laser flashes. He asks if I have an Ace Rewards card. I can't even answer because my beans have stopped jumping. I wonder if the laser light harmed them. Then one jumps and another, and I hand the boy some money, suddenly very fond of my beans.

Prairie Rose

19511951 views77 comments44 favs

Every Friday night she gets liberated at The Haymarket Square doing a bunny hop or a do si do with ex-members of The Saint Augustine Women's Choir. She remembers how as kids, shy or awkward in dresses, their voices formed the harmony, the flight of something V-shaped…

Under Water

19511951 views11 comment11 fav

When I was six, my father brought home a fishbowl. Look out for the inhabitants, he said. You can play Neptune in their microcosm of the sea.

Marion, Texas

19511951 views22 comments22 favs

Marion had decided to stop whenever she came upon Amarillo. It was close to two a.m. when she pulled into the motel parking lot. Momma, read the nametag on the woman at reception. Her face was illuminated by a TV. Her hair curlers were illuminated by the lone desk lamp…

Mutants

19511951 views11 comment00 favs

Elin and I had religious differences about the garage. To her the garage required regular sweeping and organization--it was an extension of our house. Elin believed dust and mold to be manifestations of inner sin. I insisted that they were agents of evolu

Tooth Decay

19511951 views11 comment00 favs

The schedule fell smoothly into place: After Imogene went home at the end of the day, Calvin locked the office door, then he and Rosalie marched into the examination room and she flossed him.

Fall

19501950 views11 comment00 favs

The rustling of the dry leaves when he moved even slightly sounded like thunder to him, and he was sure if any of the other kids from the neighborhood got too close, it was the noise that would end up giving him away.

Do you dream?

19501950 views1515 comments55 favs

Megalomania is a kind of backwards leprosy. It rots your insides out while your skin glistens and grows tighter around your bones.

Old Photo, 1948 or so

19501950 views99 comments66 favs

I’m maybe only four. Not smoking cigarettes found in street gutters yet. That will come the next year, when I’m five. Maybe when I’m six, and Andy’s five, my pal from across the street. That’s my tricycle parked behind this pack of kids that look to be ne

Thunder at Midnight

19501950 views44 comments44 favs

I’ve had it to here you see.

Kin of His

19501950 views3030 comments1818 favs

I dreamed that coffee grounds had spilled on my Buffet. There was another clarinet, a silver one, that belonged to a man not in the room, that was clean of debris.

Beyond the Wire

19501950 views1212 comments55 favs

Thistle and cracked corn were thrown to us each morning and the occasional live chicken...

Wild Dreams of Reality, 10

19501950 views11 comment11 fav

I spent the whole day at Oliveira's, writing furiously in my notebooks. The words came pouring out. Just before seven, Darrell picked me up. I grew anxious driving down to Parker's studio because it was in a bad area on the border between Oakland

Napomo 17: April 7-12

19501950 views2222 comments1212 favs

The drinking will continue/ until morale improves

A Silent Scream

19501950 views22 comments22 favs

She hated the noiseless dying sound they made as he stuck the hook through their eyes. She always wanted for them to scream, but they never did. They didn’t even blink.

Don't Leave Me Alone!

19491949 views33 comments33 favs

A joust. A tournament. A playing field. ¶ Hmm . . .

Where Have You Gone, Honey Bear?

19491949 views66 comments66 favs

When I wake up and look to my left, will you be there with me, snoring like an asthmatic bear?

Scent of a Woman - 55 word story

19491949 views1313 comments55 favs

She slipped into a silky sheath dress, and stepped into black sequined heels just as the doorbell rang. Her date had arrived to take her to his much touted Art opening in town. Reaching under the bathroom sink for a final mist of hair spray she realized too late…

Redacted.

19491949 views11 comment00 favs

Almost on cue, Xavier emerges and is in the vendor’s face. “X,” as he is known around here, is indoctrinating the obvious newbie on the merits of showing up earlier and the logistics of placeholders and markers.

NAN : A Novel-In-Stories

19491949 views00 comments00 favs

My novel-in-stories, NAN, is now available as an ebook for $6.99. Thanks to everyone who read the first 7 published stories here on Fictionaut.

Letter to the Bean Factory

19491949 views66 comments22 favs

The figure was covered in a light blue chenille bathrobe, splayed out on her back on the floor by the glass door, her hair done up in large curlers, a slipper lying askew by her left foot. Richie crouched near the face and the rancid flame of bourbon lea

Robert Penn Warren and Orange County Blue

19491949 views88 comments55 favs

We were old. Wind came in with small threats and played games with drapes. A print of orchids and some other green affair that looked to me like kiwis. Sadie was arranging some items on a desk and I noticed there was a cricket on the window. I was thinking…

Something for you

19481948 views66 comments11 fav

Bearing the smell of paper on her fingertips. Ink in her hair.

Polaris

19481948 views1010 comments77 favs

Things get lost in Big John, too. I see the other guys throw jokes about his size at his body that wedge their way into his armpits or into the wrinkles of his laugh lines and disappear. I’m not sure if it all disappears to remind us how small we are,

Trio of Found Poems

19481948 views22 comments11 fav

Paper Bird, Devotchka, TV On The Radio

Forgive Me Mamma

19481948 views00 comments00 favs

His footing unsure and his clothes covered in vomit, he grabs the railing and stumbles up the three steps. He pulls off his shirt, finds a cleaner area on the puke-covered garment, wipes sweat off his forehead, dripping wet from the humid, stormy night, a

MAO

19481948 views1616 comments99 favs

She was as distant as Mao, someone I never met, but whom everyone carried in their eyes,

The Weaver's Tale

19481948 views33 comments22 favs

‘Hmph! Dream indeed! “Past the wit of man to say what dream it was” - the man's a knotty-pated arse.' The old master-weaver spat into the fire, his rheumy eyes bright with contempt, then looked round furtively; Nathaniel was not yet returned,…

The Art of It

19481948 views44 comments22 favs

To write a good poem, one needs nothing but the whole intent of goodness.

Hunger

19481948 views88 comments88 favs

It took all four of his kids to convince my father to pull the plug. Mom's car crash had left her a vegetable, but of course he hung on. Once they withdrew life support, she was gone in ten minutes. The first thing our father said was that he was hungry. He felt…