Most read stories

When Kids Complain

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They say, we have hangnails. I say, I have a bruised leg.

My Man Wears Cherry Pants

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My man wears chartreuse shoes.! He wears chartreuse shoes like a new king right there on Main St.!

~the brilliant machine~

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when the sun goes down alone vice is forgotten in the night wind your lover's voice on the phone held fast in the balance of gravity and momentum overcoming inanimate objects and the unknown

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...

Educating an American

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Note to self: look up Bobby Sands.

Virginity

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It rises rigid and plumb from its heavy base, the severity of line yielding to grace only at the throat where it crests into a subtly constrictive pinch.

The Strange Ones

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In the morning, I lay on my side and ran a finger down the girl’s back, lightly tracing her spine. I remarked on the whiteness of her skin.

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.

Charms L.P.

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Funny, you can drink wine and eat stale crackers, but you cannot suck a simple lollipop? Where does it say that in the bible? Nowhere, that’s where.

Faithful Still

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The moonlight illuminated Dahlia’s bare breasts. She remembered when Gerard used to appreciate them.

Rebekah Just When the Drought Was Ending

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But the best thing about Rebekah was the way she floated always beneath the scent of woodburn and dusty Middle America,

Parcel

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you hear the knell of kindness long before its cathedral voices -- a recessional -- barters better times.

STONE

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Man waters Earth with his eyes.

Teller of Tales

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He came to us with wandering tales of wild things Savage, biting, slashing, tearing A violent voice boomed becoming of beasts

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

Matisse, in the Jardin des Tuileries, 1904

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The World's Worst Mime stood there next to the iron carousel, portraying something, and the crowd understood none of it, except that whatever thing he was trying to portray was not being portrayed well at all.

Egypt.

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

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…

If There is an Airport

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If there is an airport, it is one of dreams. If there is a dream, it is one of shadows. If there are shadows, there is not much more but the thoughts of a short man meeting a short woman on a runway of forbidden desires, in a foreign city belonging to n

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,

Ninja

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She catches my head in a leg scissors and says for me to say Ninja Uncle. Instead, I bite into her flesh that only remotely tastes like a soft salt pretzel.

Relic

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While space and time opened up for us, the ground accelerated its attempts to devour the astronaut. Grasses grew up around his edges. Seeds propagated in the folds of his suit, tendrils found their way into the mysterious holes for the missing hoses that

Itch

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Clayton had a grin like the hand of a beast that stretched as long as her gravel road...

All there is

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You need buttered broths and to copy old writings by hand by very poor light.

A Tale of Two Writers

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A famous author and an inspired writer meet at a coffee shop, both looking for inspiration. The patrons there don’t know if this meeting is by accident or design, but they are in awe of Fame.

Autobiography of a Head Bully, excerpts

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On Saturday nights, they dream of you. You are the gas station they can’t own, the lottery they can’t win. You are beating up their boss, giving him a headache that will last through Wednesday morning, keep him home half the week.

On A Highway Somewhere

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When I think about love, I actually think about life. And when I think about that, I wonder if we’re really who we used to be.

The Comforts of a Robe

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Woman With Water Bottles has taken up a little spot in the back of my brain, her hair tickling her eyes in the breeze.

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.

Curb Appeal

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He kept the lawn mowed at the perfect height. He mowed it twice a week to one inch. Some weeks he mowed it a third time for good measure.