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188796
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We married in the ruins of a pachinko hall, the tiny bones in the pocket of your tracksuit luring a pack of wild dogs out from the underpass.
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18871310
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sacred ground bleached with the salt of bitter tears
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18861210
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I'm dying but that's not to say what you think it says. I've crossed the river of myself many, many times before and wandered to the shore, broken and drenched and full of the fever of dyingdreams. Each time was a kind of ritual mask, drying off the beat ofmy newly…
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188694
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1886126
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She bought her first gerbil at the age of nine. She wondered if he would die from endless logrolling. When he died from natural causes, she refused to bury him and kept a distance from the first boy who kissed her--Thomas J. Hobbit. The next year a twister swept…
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18862315
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This is the story of the man whose wife lived in his neck. Every morning, he would turn to her and say, "Hello, Sweetheart. How was your night?" and she would answer, Brilliant! What else?
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188664
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My cousin had put them up last year, showed me when we stood on her bed as her fingers pointed, traced over the outlines, then turned out the lights, so that I could see them glow.
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188664
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"...I wonder if it held magical powers..."
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18862212
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So, how did they meet? After years and years of starvation and gruesomeness and lack of human contact because there were no humans left, only walking corpses, a woman gently lifted the sixty-pound dead man's penis with a cool washrag and wiped him clean. The dead…
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188683
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She thought maybe an angel had called out her name. She wasn't sure. She was waiting for her older sister to return with Jujy Fruits and bonbons. The theater, neither light nor dark, was to Cassie's ten-year-old mind, an appropriate-enough setting for a v
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188566
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ghosts are local plagues/of unexpended grief—tears/can't be bodiless.
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18852415
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Put down your bazooka, Marianne.
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1885127
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I have no more use for the beautiful words you used to like so much for me tosend you alone. See my feathers donot so much hide me now as giveme away; I tend to feel farfrom home. Forgive me this. Theend jumped by me quicker than anorange flower cricket on its…
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188541
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"What's that smell?" Osama glares at me from the front seat of the Trans Am.
"What smell?" I say.
"You smell like a diaper. Are you wearing a diaper?" Osama and Peach both laugh at me.
"No... maybe, its my Baby Soft perfume. Is it too strong?"
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188400
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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.
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18842014
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In the bearded sun, I see a golden goat.
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188443
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fifteen together with a little streetart slamtrick
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188300
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This is how we catch up. I write something down, and you read me quietly. In a year's time you will remind me, though I would have forgotten. I check to see if maybe you have put up a new song, every once in a while, but you don't sing as well as you used to.What has…
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188386
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wild eyes open your iris sunrise
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188384
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It don't knock you down to the goddamned ground and push your face into the mat and dare you to get back up. Just so it can knock you down again. They don't have real dreams. Dreams that make them wake up in the middle of the night. Hurting. Wanting.
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188300
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Even the stinging warmth of the Grey Goose wasn’t fun without Lisa whispering into his ear, telling him stupid little confessions that he would recite to her in singsong the day after. And she would beat her small fists against his chest solemnly with a
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1883117
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Winter melts to ashes and now we walk where hillocks dip like pillows, where a warm pocket of air keeps the scent of spring beauties for itself. Sensitive vetch so easily shocked folds under a feather yet the earth trembles where trout lilies shove. Buds stall on lilacs…
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1883188
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I always step around his mess...
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188371
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Homer relaxes in his tan, faded recliner, remote in hand, and watches death unfold on his television.
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188310
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188374
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She said he was missing the whole point: it was a decoration, not an actual pillow. You were supposed to place it somewhere artful.
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188311
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For a fleeting moment, eyes seemed to clear and the man spoke as if he were coming out of the pea soup fog that formed over the lake on spring mornings.
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1882149
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She feels the music deep in her belly,her hips swaying, she looks out through lids no longer guardedand sees you, Her knees bend, her eyes close, She is moving back and forth,a pulse in time,Her arms snake around her head,She does not ask,may I enjoy myself?…
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188280
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“You always use that as a crutch. You, a sixteen year old girl. The way you were…” She looked at me, shaking her head, looking at my body as if remembering some wrong, some thing that should not have been.
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