Most read stories

Lottery Ticket

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  Tony sat down in the hotel room with his back against the wall. He had a handsome face, with three-day stubble growing from it, his pupils very large as if frightened by something, or from deep thought. In his hand, was the winning lottery, Periodically he would get up…

Smoke

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She wanted handcuffs.

Lost Sister

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She looks exactly like my sister, though I do not have a sister.

Water

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The water rolls gently this evening, barely touching my toes before retreating. The tide has been going out for over an hour and already there are several victims – crustaceans, spider crabs, minnows.

That's It

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I am heading to work. It's early and Clare is still asleep. When I hit the breezeway I realize that I forgot my keys. I walk back into the house and start rustling through the junk on the table by the door. After a moment I sense someone standing behind me and…

En Pointe

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Her gaunt arms softly rose, sweeping in front of her with movements that were hesitant at first but, as the music that only she could hear took her in its grip, became graceful and assured.

The Road Trip Trilogy

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...It's my advice that this Fourth of July the Office of Homeland Security post the following instructions on your web site www.Ready.gov — people should act like my dog Lucy and just stay inside under the bed and tremble...

Nope.

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Can't cope. Got no hope. Got no dope. Call the Pope. Get the rope.

Book of Genesis

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Almost to the elevation of regret.

Martini

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She drinks a chocolate martini. I fold myself up and slide into her pocket.

O'erleaping Ambition

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“Listen, Mother – you’re my ticket out of this burg and I’m not about to cash it in!”

When the Well Runs Dry

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and the moon shines on like a silver dollar and coyotes in the desert scream and holler

Through windows dimly lit

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Burren-grey, the sky through sky lights is cigarette ash smashed across July.

Still Strangers.

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I didn’t question any of it and instead sat motionless as she dropped my wrists and walked away seconds later.

Born Here (from Grand Street literary journal)

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I really only started reading books after the folks left. Right away I thought maybe I should have a system for it, so I go alphabetically by author, one book by one author. The first time around I was reading the books everyone knows, so when I was in th

Birdhouses

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That year, if you asked Al, was truly the best of times, the worst of times.

The Power of Bad Words

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Her skirt is so short, said the teenage girls to each other. I was 7 years old. I said: she looks like a slut. They laughed; I blushed. Later, the slut smiled at me. I tried to find the teenage girls but they were gone. I wanted to say: it's actually a pair of…

ANYTHING FOR JOHNNY

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After nine months, I was granted early parole...

Buzz Kill

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Blood had soaked through his Converse All-Stars, and into his cotton sox. It was the smell of metal, of iron more specifically, that nudged his mind out from the fog of shock and denial, closer to the reality of his circumstances.

Attempting Integration, Duchamp Descends to the Killing Floor

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Slice the moment into/ free body diagrams/ of elegant simplicity

Puerility

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--So, why are you here?

Where Have You Gone, Honey Bear?

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When I wake up and look to my left, will you be there with me, snoring like an asthmatic bear?

Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Tree

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I found him dead underneath a sycamore tree. I knew it was a sycamore tree because of all the acorns surrounding the body.

Big Hot Day

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There is an emotion out there I can feel it already in me swimming around in my blood like a big hot postulation. Like a big hot hand of light.

The Space Between Words (Valentines Day)

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Looking for meaning in spaces between words.

Power Ballad (Revised)

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Everyone else in the bar was looking everywhere else: it was as though they were alone while Journey played loudly all around. “Streetlights, people,” she sang. Time didn't move. What she must be like while driving, singing to herself with the windows fog

She Is My Nightmare

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her skin the color of honey sugary sweet eyes like long-forgotten pathways to a place I can only just recall her hair in twists and her hands touching it fondling it tucking it back behind her ears as she rubs her legs against each other crosses them at…

If a Gun is Introduced, it Must Eventually Fire

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His note said: “I’m sick of low attendance.”

The Fifth Snatch

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...oh shit...

Island Music

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Of all the things Shelly hated about her job, the music was the worst.