Most read stories

Is That You, Bugs?

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Poor kid. She didn't mean to leave my business card on her kitchen counter next to the telephone. It was a mistake.

Rear View

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The man of a thousand faces was defunct.

We Don't Need a Guitar Man

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The courtroom smelled a lot like mold and it was hot as you could imagine. I sweated through my shirt and wondered if he wasn’t dying under his robe. He looked down at me from his bench and I just knew he was going to call me a commie and sentence me to l

Rough Draft

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fated and cruel, a person I don't love

Molasses

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My T-shirt read BOO HOO.

South 55

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This is a wife pregnant with spiders

The Good Sounds of Squeamish Language

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Accuracy is a prediction

Snatch X

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...the astonishing discovery...

Dragon Lady

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What happened later that evening is unclear. When Mickey got back to his quarters, he was in good spirits. Buoyant even.

Gateway to the Continent

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I got to Victoria station at quarter to eleven on a Friday with nothing but a small leather bag and the vague idea of getting out of London.

Hurricane Shutters

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The thing that really gets you about the house is the hurricane shutters. They're up already, even though it's the end of May, because Buck's uncle is back in Rhode Island for the summer and he's prepped the house on Key Largo like Armageddon is coming.

cloth

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i want out

Nobody Steps Forward

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I can only see their eyes in the dark, reflected in the light from my flashlight. It's so quiet. I only hear the sound of my own breath. I hold the flashlight steady. Maybe they will think I'm not a threat if I'm not moving. It's a small hope. Yet here we are, at a…

The Bird, The Snake, and Me

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The truth about the bird and the snake is this. They are dead. And me? I cannot stop thinking about them.

Pirate

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Control and decorum. Manners. Practice such to protect yourself and others.

The Mirror Tires of Looking at Itself

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Sure, to a teacher, life is a paper / but what would life be to a druggist?

God on Paddy's Night.

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Paddy's night arrived in the manner of finding a half torn fiver, initial anticipation usurped by disappointment before a chancer's edge suggested some craic might ensue after all. A great crowd had gathered somewhere else, for under Hill street bridge…

The Get-Up

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There was a children’s lit theme running through the party. Aside from Annemarie’s costume, there was a Harry Potter, a Pinocchio, and a Grinch.

Deep June Pool

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I may be the shadow that I am, but I only ever loved you.

The Olympian: A Tale of Ancient Hellas ....an excerpt

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“You have run for your life, Astylos, and won. All Hellenes share in your victory.” The crowd bellowed and thundered as an attendant tied purple ribbons around the winner’s forehead, arms and legs. These would mark him as a victor for the remaining days o

Bravo, Scrittore!

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I hadn't yet assembled enough pieces of Italian to explain any of this, but it was hardly necessary. The fact that I was a scrittore in a language foreign to her seemed to make me especially fascinating...

Audition

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My piano tutor, a walnut-faced shrew, rapped my knuckles with her small plastic baton to smack them back into the proper tempo, an adagio I’d mastered weeks before. One hour until the audition and damn if this woman didn’t break the skin of two of my fing

Myra's Lesson

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There’s no training course available for kids in love. You can watch your parents, you can watch other kids, but for the most part it’s all trial and error, and I'm still pretty shaky at almost all of it.

Wuthering Heights: 21st C Remix (Anti-love version)

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That Bronte woman had me painted like Eminem’s Stan Or a droog from Kubrick

Working Girl

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Suddenly a hand shot up on the other side of a hedge. “I’ll have one of those!” cried someone who remained invisible.

The Day You Told Me You Fucked Her

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I imagined you going at her in ferocious fucking-- / O, O, O, O, O, O, O Immortal Glistening Cock,

Work Room

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the constant inner jabber

Ladies' Day At Sam's Place

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I'm warming my stool at the far end of the bar as usual, nursing my fourth draft on a balmy Wednesday afternoon when I lock eyes with this lady who's bashing her head through the front door. You've heard the expression, “50-yard fox,” right? —Looks…

Bonne Fire

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And the voodoo pins pinged as, folding and imploding, she was reduced to a petro-chemical puddle.

All Dogs Are Needy

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I know she's a dog person, as she owns one. “No, my asshole ex-boyfriend wanted one and then he left me with it.” she admits, then adds, “I don't even like dogs. All dogs are needy.”