Most read stories

Security

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

Language

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this reaching, this striving to love like it's there becoming something we need.

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.”

FANTASY

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Normally I would have never drank such a wine, but it was late on a Friday evening and the bottle was on the house...

Certainty

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All I know about the futureis that every one alwaysgets to exactly where they are.

The Truth

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His people eat soggy casseroles and smile with tight lips.

Dishwater Panacea

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Suds, like gossamer bandages at her wrists, concealed the turbulence below but could not relieve it.

Halfway Out The Door

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She asks if I only write about men, which I tell her is redundant. I also answer, “Yes, but sometimes I write about them as race cars, hyenas, vaginas, or God.” She smirks like she wants to smile, but it’s stuck halfway out her door. Her happiness has

The Flute Player

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The man who plays his flute every day under the archway near Powell station is not very good. He never plays a real tune, just a series of random notes. There is no rhythm or melody either. In fact, it's not even a flute he…

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…

Black Orchids

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I told him he was just paying for his sins. He gave me a look. "Why me?" he asked.

Let’s Make a Landscape

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Viewed correctly, nature is an inexhaustible storehouse of clichés. A successful landscape is their pleasing rearrangement.

My Dog Was Wrong About You

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When it was time to leave, she lingered beside you, bidding you to come again. I flicked my cat, dog tail, indifferent. She wanted to lick your cheek.

With a Danish

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It wasn't hidden, exactly, but kept in a place where she wouldn't be expected to look: a photograph of Roger, naked and supine, looking at the camera without surprise.

Escape

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Lothario Jones rounded the corner and skidded to a stop, trying to catch his breath. He was in a tight spot. The Journeymen were still hot on his trail. His Danger Pistol was out of radium pellets, and his once-full Bag of Tricks was now empty ...

Wayne Recalls Rocking and the Power of Positive Thinking

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My mother told me I came out of her screaming and didn’t stop for two years. After that I took up rocking.

Cream Base Neutral Tan

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Face defined-front part of head Cybil's eyes stick to a mirror and guard the woman's skin. The woman's image could be the result of uncontrolled narcissism, yet dry wrinkles are visible from her reflection. Disguise cream covers some of the woman's c

Honey

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Cellulite is legal to have, either way.

The Serious Writer Tracks His Stats

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The officers carried him away in cuffs as he yelled "I NEED STATS! PLEASE! JUST GIVE ME THE STATS!"

SHAME

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My people rested naked sandwiches on the arms of chairs, and always had an open saucer with half melted butter, a block of Velveeta cheese in the freezer, an open rice cooker.

Arcana Magi Pure - c.5

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Emi however, took her sister’s arm and looked at the bandage. Her normal green eyes stared coldly at the wound made by one of the large centipedes. Mayumi realized there was some sense of emotion from Emi wanting to come out.

::HARD (excerpt)

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It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t scary. It wasn’t great. And it never is with people. Except..eventually..when you meet the right person..it is.

Burma

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Our mothers died in childbirth. Taken in by the village, our new mothers taught us to wave at the river boats, to sell our trinkets to tourists. They offered us coins of a foreign currency and little pathetic smiles. By nightfall, our fingers bled. Then came…

Emotional Gentrification - excerpt Single Stroke Seven

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Sunday, Nolan and I drop by the ice rink on 10th and Alma to watch the amateur hockey leagues battle it out in an unspoken yet assumed class war: the buff, unemployed rink bums who can grind ice, cross-check, and stick handle like the pros, versus the dou

The Death of Childhood Heroes (or "Roadkill")

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We were pushing ninety down the highway through a stretch of what rightfully should have been called the Badlands. We were both absorbed and coping with the rapidly escalating stages of desperation and so neither of us noticed when the yellow figure stepped…

Gregory Dates a Witch

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None of us took it too seriously when Gregory from underwriting said he was dating a real-life witch. Being an underwriter is not as interesting as say being a writer. That's why the greatest underwriter in America, Ajit Jain, gets paid per hour what Jame

Albatross Antics

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Track One Johnny Burkemeister, lead vocals and flutist of the band Albatross Antics, sits on his bed thinking in silence. His elbow rests on his knee, and his palm on his forehead with his fingers running through his dirty-blonde hair. He is staring at a copy of Paste…

SMOKE & MIRRORS

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These days I wear a flag pin.

Liquids

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The bar sounds grew (as bar sounds will) until everything rushed together -- clinking glass, tinkling ice, laughter and zippers going down then up.

When I Am Dead, Let Someone Tell Him Of My Suffering

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Susie watched the record, her mouth agape just slightly, the spinning vinyl unveiling the powerful sound of a voice she'd wanted to hear her whole life.