Most read stories

The Eleventh Commandment

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I never thought I’d miss the sound of church bells, reminding me of my sudden apostasy, faintly ringing over the rumpus where even the birds can’t get a word in edgeways.

David

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I keep encouraging him to write stories not poems, but I think he enjoys writing things that don’t fit together. Things that stumble.

Autumn in the Afterward

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A year after we'd last spoken I can still remember your commentary, our ill-fated reunion at the baggage claim forever immortalized as this solitary instance of unobstructed joy.

I Remember Kitty D.

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When the car arrived, Kitty bounded out, lipstick-stained cigarette dangling, silver hair tightly teased. We could not escape her hug, smelling of peppermint and Aqua-Net and Jean Nate.

Slave to the Rhinestone

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He introduced himself as Jimmy Stamps and shook my hand with the confidence of a man who is Microsoft Windows certified. Reeking of vodka and Swisher Sweets he proceeded to expatiate on the virtues of X

Crows on the Curb

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They perch on the curb in front of the factory, like so many rail thin crows exuding smoke from their haggard beaks. They've been here. They've been here a long while.

Pit Stop

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I was more annoyed at the scream, the icy air around us and our eventual destination–his parents, the club, small talk, all that drunken insignia.

Overheard While Buying Tires in Willits

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She breezes through the door, cellphone to ear, with the confidence of the affluent. Can you look at my left rear tire, the dashboard indicator says it's low. Back to her phone, Oh, Marsha, hi, how are you, you gorgeous WOMAN, you!? Hey, I'm on my way to…

Coda in the Form of Three Haiku

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Nature has its way:

Carrie Nadeau

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She wouldn't have been the first.

Snake, Rope

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The snake was fang-less and so had to choke her, making the kill bloodless and drawn out, just the way she liked it.

(2) Liars

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"Being honest with me," said her teacher, "will hopefully allow you to be honest with yourself--writing is about being honest, and articulating that honesty." It sounded like a riddle, and her teacher looked at her with the sanctimony of a wizard.

After Grief

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Within a day, she had a scummy apartment which belonged to the government. It had cockroaches, which she was not used to. They churned her stomach, repulsive little things. Not even creatures. Two brains, she'd read: one in the head, one in the ass.

IT CAN, IT CAN, IT CAN

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A man jumped off the High Level Bridge this morning.

Parcel

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

THE BIRTH OF THE BLUES

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The blues were born on the ghost train that rolled through the Delta and gave Memphis breath back in 1902. It's low moaning sound brought young black men running, dogs hot in pursuit, toward glory that danced in a moonlight…

Strange Fruit of Unrewarded Labor

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Poets are more like Jesus,/ suffering the cross

She lets her intentions guide her

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“If 'neighbor' applies to women who covet—'deliriously desire'—husbands from Angers, then one day he'll be your husband's neighbor," I say.

Your Mystery

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I took it in my hands and used it on my lips. The taste was just hers: her touch, her smell, her breath in the winter nights. She was in this. Everything we had was in this tube.

A Story

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Like many little towns, ours has an archive. It is a catalog of everything that happens.

You Know It!

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"Every single thing ... " Hunk Hokum pronounced from the stage, flexing his muscles and prancing around in his red pseudo-loincloth, "has been totally scripted ... and ... every action ... has been ... preplanned-out ... in advance!"

We All Look So Perfect As We All Fall Down

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My server wore cat's eye glasses, a Wonderbra that made her breasts like the embryos from Alien wanting to burst their way out of her Hooters t-shirt but couldn't.

Piggy Bank

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He shivered in his robe and pajama pants as the showdown with the piggy bank continued on this dark winter’s night. He couldn’t resist the cute dots for eyes, the stubby legs and perked up ears.

Artesian Moon

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If you want job security on this planet, you'd better study art.

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.

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.

My Grandmother Becomes A Young Widow

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I want her life to pass in a world without meridian

Progresso

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I don't see why you didn’t get a dozen while you were at it.

Gargoyle

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they were open weekends if we needed to bring him in for euthanasia.

-And Lurking Behind Quasar 3C295 . . .

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“Let’s see that great big telescope of yours,” she exhaled hotly, “I want to grind your lenses!” The doctoral candidate dutifully stood between her and his massive telescope so her hands would encounter some instrumentation with no optical components.