Most read stories

Tales from an Indiscriminate Record Collection

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45s I’ve kept wrapped in newspaper in the attic. These are all mine. Some doubling up in sleeves. Some pushing tears in the seams.

City Girls Never Need Car Keys

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But they all know the parking prayer...

Until the Dawn (part 1)

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Tara was so tired. The bus connection was off again, and her ankles were so swollen. Maybe it was the heat, the humidity, she wasn't sure… but things were definitely getting worse. She sighed. At least the bus shelter had an empty spot on the bench, so as she…

Ya Sure You Betcha (A Syttende Mai Challenge)

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Nora never dated Scandinavians.

A Spark and a Flash

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Butchie was the one who heard about the bonfire happening over on Harrison Avenue.

Wasps' Nest

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Here’s how you do it. First you get a ladder, a long one.

Police Mistakenly Release Murderer: An Analysis

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He has no plan, he needs a plan, he has no plan, he needs a plan -- the two thoughts bounce around inside his skull like racquet balls.

Cutting Rhubarb in the Rain

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Tendering these stalks, making the pie, heralds me a holder of apron strings...

Dreamphone Sleepover

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Cassie cradles the loaf-sized phone – pinker than any girl – and dials. he's not wearing a hat says the phone and we all scratch our pencils on the boy-list.

Wishes Shovel Best

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Just as he expected, the reaction was spontaneous, euphoric and unequivocally positive. With just one exception. A politician connected with the home service of his parliamentary section's boss, with the mobile phone number 0-609-3459812, and known for hi

The Rest Nowhere

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A screaming comes across the brain

Shatters

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She collects slowly The pieces Each one Heavy with grief Precious and Also bitter

The Escapists

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I sought to feel something. I hunted my mortality. I craved that rush of life pulsating through my veins.

Belief

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The child closed her eyes again. Outside was sparkling, sharp looking, when she blinked he’d be here, like when she went to sleep and found outside had been whitened with snow. She closed her eyes and opened them, then closed them again. When she opened

2006, What I Wanted

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freedom from my mind

Say Uncle

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People were just doing it. Doing it everywhere. On lawn chairs and stray patio cushions and watching. Watching every one do it.

Right and Wrong

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Uncle Tee, a dog handler, taught all the camp children their basics: how to "make change" from a $10-bill, how to slip a hand into ladies' purses, and how to make their smiles warm and endearing.

No More Tears

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When Bill was in the hospital, one month bleeding into the next, his mother visited exactly twice, both times complaining of the things she needed or couldn’t get rid of: mop heads, bleach, dustpans, detergents, grease, turgid water in the basement. And

Eggshells

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The eggs got badder as the cook got madder

Egypt.

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When the sky was thinner and water faster, we would chase the falling stars.

Love, a comet, omens and wings

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My love for him like wax wings/ so long they stretched eternal— beating in the sky, grazing peaks,

Spring Uprising

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Some people might find it strange and a bit obsessive to mow their lawn every day, but to Shiram it was an irreplaceable part of his daily existence.

Being In Love Is For High Schoolers Or Middle Aged Divorcees

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But who am I kidding. We aren’t in love. Being in love is for high schoolers or middle aged divorcees exploring their sexuality. Our love is real, sweaty, backwards, forwards, angry, trusting. We love as you only can after seeing someone at their best and

This Will Hurt

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He says the medic held a needle/said, “This will hurt,”/and pierced his lung

Charlotte

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Half way through our cigarettes she told me her name was Charlotte.

MYTHO-THERAPY ON THE BLINK

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Once upon a time, not so long ago in Los Angeles, Jack and Jill Woodman’s father remarried.

Librarians! What Are We Hiding?

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Librarians are hiding something. What is it?

The Spoken World

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The spoken world is bigger than I had ever imagined it to be, wonderful and relentless and unforgiving, and to be a part of it was my grandest childhood fantasy. I don’t know what the world sees me as now, but inside I will always be a stutterer.

A Clean Tent

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“No,” he says. A simple lie. “I -” He pushes the sleeping bag off of his legs. Their getaway reset was a mistake.

Appearances

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Vito stood before the mirror combing his dark, freshly-cut hair. He trimmed his thick mustache, then buttoned his black vest. He liked its tight fit against his muscular torso. He had difficulty fastening the top button of his white shirt, the collar tigh