Most read stories

"at 'night' any night is can't"

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“In the process, I’ve created this memory track. Yet had the sense that I had to make fixed memories move as illusion, that they move as illusion.”

Mother

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I carefully placed the knife back to its original position and, with poorly contained excitement, retrieved a palm from the fridge. It was slightly wrinkled, but it was just as fair as the rest of the pristine white in the fridge. It felt warm to my hands

The Widow's Morning

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Whispers flew, like wild darts across the room. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. Right then, it wasn’t my job to figure things out; it was my job to cry.

Beachball, Kentucky

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If you’re Frederick in this moment, you are watching from that balcony and start to scream your fool head off. Maybe you just think you scream, and you might have screamed, but what you really do is clutch at your chest, black dots spanning each eyeball,

Cliche

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Six thousand dollars was a small price for a man's life. Mario was in the back seat of the Honda with Johnny next to him handcuffed, all tense. Francisco had it on a rap station, the sort of music that gave Mario a headache.

Excerpt (Writing With Wine)

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Damn, I joke with myself, who was the fucking idiot that bought this cheap bottle of red wine?

The Art of It

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

Jumping Beans

19891989 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.

Slime

19891989 views22 comments22 favs

Once or twice he sees her around town when he’s out driving but other than that, I mean, it’s not like he was stalking her, he didn’t know where she went to school or what she did for a part-time job, he didn’t care, he wasn’t interested.

Auden at Swarthmore

19891989 views1616 comments1212 favs

So I went to see the wrinkled and rumpled poet, who insisted on reading from memory, stumbling through his sheaf of poems.

77 Words About Nothing (Triad)

19891989 views1515 comments77 favs

My mind has started to finish thoughts at 77 Words. These are just a few.

Paper House

19891989 views1010 comments88 favs

Because if they’re wavering, it's about the coin, always about the coin.

Our Love Is Enough

19891989 views1414 comments88 favs

To stop the world from explodingLike Krypton. It has to be.Like purple flowers we're there on Burnt battlefields. It raises its flag, Too, and continues the march towardThe dreaming sun in spite ofAll the smoke and ash thisWorld has to offer. Our…

Spades

19881988 views1212 comments44 favs

all / the secret letters/ ever dreamed up

Backwards

19881988 views55 comments11 fav

One of her favorites was of an old axe asleep on a desert floor. She told people the axe had the western lips of September. That it held the song of the ocean and the dreams of a scarecrow. Some thought she was mad to talk in such a way. Others believed h

Red Hot Hyperbole

19881988 views77 comments77 favs

She came from the land of rumpled sheets. She was the very definition of sex. She was the breeze through the wind chimes of his heart. One might say that she actually invented the orgasm. All mirages are this way. Perfect until they disappear. They

Sensitivity Workshop

19881988 views88 comments55 favs

Inspired by my last writers' workshop, where encouragement is key.

A Little Fishing

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Harpo sits and looks at something I can't see. I drink beer and ask him questions. I ask him how they found the cancer. Backache, he says. He went to see a doctor.

Fall

19871987 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.

The Book of Punishments

19871987 views33 comments11 fav

"Not a fan?" Beth asks, feeling a sliver of happiness move through her. He furrows his brow. "Then what brings you here?" "I'm here to pick up girls," Steve says simply. "Want to hit the buffet table? Want to run away to Mexico?"

Forgive Me Mamma

19871987 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

Where Have You Gone, Honey Bear?

19871987 views66 comments66 favs

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

If IT Were YOU

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author's note: the borgs in this story have been programmed to think of themselves as IT and in speech refer to selves as YOU* Though IT too had ball and socket joints, the Borg could not sit down to face ITs inquisitor. While IT felt the need to clean up the fallen…

The World Has Let Me Down

19871987 views33 comments55 favs

My mother and I are close We talk like friends I tell her about people I'm dating She gets excited for me And she asks how it's going When I tell her I think I'm gay She says nothing She does not ask about the woman I am seeing She does not ask how I am doing …

The Legend of Bo Grass

19871987 views00 comments00 favs

Bo ruled the city by suggesting new scent formulas in a booming croak of a voice that shook the earth for acres around, yet as a result everybody on the block smelled like fairy breath. Or, on his BAD BREATH DAYS all of the people reeked of rotted sushi f

Tooth Decay

19871987 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.

Truman Compote

19871987 views77 comments55 favs

When it rains, I can really think.

When I Last Saw Gina

19871987 views22 comments77 favs

Regina Dawn "Gina" Edwards, 49, passed away June 2, 2006. R.I.P. "Ridge Woman"

Roanne's Dream

19871987 views77 comments33 favs

Roanne banged the chiva, turned tricks, and ran out of road.

THERE IS AN I.V. OF THE TIMES I HAVE THOUGHT, "I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT" AND IT IS SWELLING MY VEINS

19861986 views1010 comments77 favs

god bless my shapeless head. we are good at becoming older. i feel incredibly negative all the time.