Most read stories

He Ages

17421742 views1111 comments66 favs

'love is when the body goes away.'

SoliTaire

17421742 views44 comments44 favs

She couldn’t help but wonder what 93 year-old Sohrabjee looked for in the torn, dusty lithograph of Marilyn in Persia one of the orderlies had stuck to the wall of the corridor outside Jasmine Wing decades ago.

Creator

17421742 views1212 comments77 favs

What purpose other than misery/ can cancer serve? And Parkinson's,/ AIDS, and STDs?

Stories of Love Under a Full Moon

17421742 views22 comments11 fav

What do you do when someone’s in love and you know it’s wrong?

Someday, Somewhere, waiting for me.

17421742 views55 comments33 favs

Out in the open air, the sun's rays washing over the dead, open fields, Nick lay, his back against the wall of the train platform, eyes facing the sky, hands outstretched to the…

Noodles

17421742 views33 comments11 fav

It's Granny hauling her crooked soul into heaven. Guess who I stole that image from?

Momma’s Don’t let Your Daughters Grow up to be Cowdykes

17421742 views22 comments00 favs

She could see very clearly in her mind many size five girls with radically short hair and Cowdyke outfits from places like L. L. Bean.

Signs and Wonders

17411741 views1212 comments1111 favs

Bag worms hang in their cloudy white hammocks. This is the month of webs when long-bodied yellow and black spiders sign their autographs.

Let’s Make a Landscape

17411741 views44 comments33 favs

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

song of the dog: Degas

17411741 views00 comments00 favs

With her head thrown back and mouth open she howls into the dark green night, letting her gloved hands droop like the front paws of a dog. A large orange corsage attached to the bosom of her gown. Around her thick neck, a ribbon of black velvet. Her p

The Edge of Night

17411741 views33 comments33 favs

The night wrapped its arms around us as we drove west, taking the highway past Medford towards Philly. The kids were asleep in the backseat and we were both counting the mile markers, staring out the windows with quiet eyes. I listened to the drone of the…

Annals of the Naked Rowdies #22

17411741 views33 comments00 favs

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.

Beowulf Is Pillow

17411741 views55 comments33 favs

Now that school is back in session, we move through our days like cage fighters, tagging in and out of matches: The Battle of the Bottle, The Diaper Duel, The Pout Bout. So while I'm assembling a casserole for tomorrow, Susan feeds Margot. While she washe

Adultery and Africa

17411741 views55 comments11 fav

“What would you think if I committed adultery?” She pauses very briefly before replying. “What, you got time on your hands?”

The Birds

17411741 views1212 comments1313 favs

My wife goes away for a few days to the little town where Hitchcock filmed The Birds.

Dishwater Panacea

17411741 views66 comments33 favs

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

Some People

17411741 views1212 comments77 favs

But those burning red numbers persist in my mind and I can't rest 'till they're gone They always come back Like the cat in that childhood song.

The Death of Childhood Heroes (or "Roadkill")

17401740 views44 comments00 favs

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…

Cats Do It Doggie Style

17401740 views22 comments11 fav

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.

Cymbals Guy

17401740 views99 comments33 favs

cymbals guy — another way of saying hey turdshitface haul your skinnyass to the front of the bus.

A Lovely Ghost Sings a Haunting Thing at Her Own Reflection

17401740 views99 comments88 favs

We've come this far. That's all we know. We've watched others reach their abrupt ends. They've given us this exact moment and we've taken it from them, sometimes without thinking. It's time for the next communication. I know what concern is…

Zorks

17401740 views44 comments22 favs

The way things are looking, we haven't got long on this earth. The whole human race is in trouble. And forget global warming, the ground wars all over, the death of the oceans, Pat Robertson, that shit. Those are annoyances,…

El Desdichado by Nerval

17401740 views99 comments77 favs

Give me back my / singularity, my tristesse, my photo ID.

The End of My Second Life

17401740 views3030 comments2020 favs

We are moments away from the end, and it feels like it.

Black Orchids

17401740 views1818 comments88 favs

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

Frozen Bird Pie

17401740 views1010 comments88 favs

I like how you completely disappeared inside a undetermined and yet planned point of pretty good view, like a rabbit with a gold chained pocket watch, like a stunned, frozen bird with a still burning bullet in its tinyfeathered brain. You could…

The House

17401740 views1616 comments1010 favs

Two stories, limestone, gray shutters,next to the park.“We almost bought that house,” my father always saideach time we drove by.He doesn't go down that street anymore.What could have been taunts him from the sidewalks —two little girls and a bucket of…

How to Fuck Kanye West (Up the Ass) by Donald Trump

17401740 views55 comments44 favs

[marbles] [blither-blather] [blarg]

Certainty

17401740 views00 comments00 favs

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

One Thousand Incarnations and One Thousand Deaths - Part I

17391739 views44 comments11 fav

She heard mortar fire, whose percussive power rose above the tapping typewriter keys. A perspiration of terror broke on Loretta’s brow, under her arms. Then suddenly, the whistling of shells.