Most read stories

Cymbals

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On stage, students from the junior college join children from the community to speak and sing in American-French accents. They are timid, heart-broken, in love, rebellious, faithful, resigned to their fates—and all in the matter of a few short hours.

Revelations

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Spilled Milk

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(I'd appreciate some feedback on this very weird story.) A Frosted Mini Wheat walks in to a bar...

Security

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Her preferred post-coital activity is to pant, to suck in air with urgent greed.

Seascape

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They had been wintering on the Cape under gunmetal skies...

If we thought that love was gone

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If we thought that love was gone that out of sweetness none remained

Our Love

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I am tired of playing the old game: Saying something old in a new way. So let me do the opposite:

Wasps' Nest

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

Heart of Gold

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"Cooperation and sharing could eliminate poverty."

Game Day

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Being awake for the sunrise, that is the good planfor writing poemsand listening to enginesbirdsand bus stop silence.Now, I'm going to smokeout back on my roof porchfrom this atticapartmentin this desert land of big-titted blondesand listen to stadium fansrage…

Dead Woman's Shoes

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Loving you, I always knew, was a job I’d only get via a dead woman’s shoes. There you were, the recipient of pot roasts, fresh bread, at a loss amongst neighbourhood widows and divorcees. A tide of them rolled over you in calico blouses, cut off jeans

The Goldsmith's Anniversary

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He searched for something deserving of the word “bestowed,” something so rare as to horrify the clerics of ordinariness.

Faith, Hope, and Charity

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She wears three or four tattered sweaters on cool days. She pushes a basket borrowed from a grocery store. There is a plastic lawn bag in the basket with God knows what inside.

77 Words About Saturday

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Another Saturday in April. Another set of scars.

Cat People #22

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When Kat returned home from The East Street Wars, she learned that her epileptic lover, White Dog, died from madness

air

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i flew

MR. WOODCHUCK

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fat furry marmots who play hide and seek

Hexagon

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an ominous figure of fear and grace a ball moves back and forth

Annals of the Naked Rowdies #22

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As they left, Roddy kicked over a statue of a blindfold and half-naked goddess of justice. "I piss on you Justice!" he yelled. The bailiff pushed him out the door as he continued his rant, inaudible.

Clarinet

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It’s beautiful to look at and to hold/ though true musicians would be appalled/ by the black plastic

Today's Going fast

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screw everything, youth is plinko

Getting Sideways On Douglas

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Under the dirty orange glow of sodium streetlights, the glistening pavement looks slick, but it’s only just wet. The mid-November temperature is cool—quite mild, actually, for this late time of year—still hovering in the upper 30s—so far posing only the

The Cruelest Man

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He was arrested for a horrible crime. It took more than three weeks to identify the body. The newspapers were vague so as not to terrify anyone. He hung his head low as he pled guilty.

Good & Plenty

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From across the crowded bar, past the be-suited lobbyists and in between the plates of fried calamari and glasses of cabernet being hustled to and fro by the Salvadoran waiters, Travis could see that John had changed. Not much, but enough to be noticeable. A little grey…

Snowed In

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“ I told you what she said, that she liked me better when I was drinking. Well, that's the way I feel, too. I liked her better when I was drinking.”

The Tree That Took Brooke’s Faith Away

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The thing was, though, she couldn’t shake the image of that dead dog she had found inside the black trash bag she thought could be first base, right before the twins said, Screw the game, let’s swing.

The Moral of This Story Is

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Always take the train.

Cats Do It Doggie Style

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Xao Ping reflexively dug her claws into the plush chenille of the sofa and let out a low yowl. She knew the old lady would be mad if she tore the fabric, but she couldn’t help it.

Human Kind Can’t Bear Very Much Reality

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Particles flung by the sun pierce us through, undetected

Mermaid

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While the other kids blew bubbles, Maddy clung to my neck. She didn't cry or scream, and she held on loosely, not with the death grip some kids have. For five Wednesday afternoons, Maddy wrapped her pudgy arms over my shoulders and rested her bottom on m