Most read stories

So Many Questions?

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“Are you my neighbor in 3D?” Was she?

Escape

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Can’t you do anything right?

The Street Of God Knows What & Other Stories

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One night he woke up with Underdog laying next to him, breathing softly. He marveled at how fiction could make reality so much better.

Banging My Head Against the Garage Door of Religion

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The villagers smash in a garage door with their heads, causing some to bleed from the ears and mouth.

Why the World's Fireflies Are Being Counted

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We got Bob Dylan on the wall wriggling from the lack of music and light among the spheres A great doubt has been raised and can be seen from far, far away for they are even afraid now in heaven that things can’t be going right and to

chicken little considers the sky again

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oh, sure i’m still running around like a heads-up/off/prophet/profit/fit trying to cut off my very own de/(con)instruction and all other sordid a•void•able & available/a-Babel towers of post &toastmodern doom/daze

The Wolves of Night Time Wrinkle Their Noses at the Thought of Running Towards the Sun, But Do it Any Ways

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Jesus was a cancer survivor and possibly a super nova.He ran with the Wolves of night time, with the women of the paleolithic era and hunted for meat when the blood didn't drip to their feet and create veritable red shoes like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.I am no longer in…

Archaeological Treasures Yet to Come

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The museum’s catalog description changed much less than the painting over those years. He wasn’t curator-in-chief of catalog descriptions, however, that task went to a curator arriving by another door.

What is your favorite body part?

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Hideki likes the uncomfortable face one makes when trying to "break wind" after eating too many dried potatoes.

The Ex

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In his mind, he could hear Eve’s voice, “We had some good times, didn’t we?”

Metro Retrofitting

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Fax me back to South Street listening to the dumpster / trumpeter, standing like licorice in the rain, / as the fetid officers assemble for the raid

Victor Krowchuck Gets Dressed

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He puts on a choir of prepositions, 142 adjectives, 317 ramifications of cotton... and 177 semicolons engorged with cabbage.

Workingman

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He died in the ditch he dug.

This Is Why I Write

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I do it for fun

The Sin Eater

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Priests didn’t just disappear, not without a reason, so there hadn’t been any doubt when Merrick was suddenly replaced. No one had said it, but they didn’t have to. And her boys, thank God—at least he’d done nothing to them.

Dishwasher

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Last night aliens invaded our dishwasher.

Off the Map

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It's difficult to remember, much less write down, the hard times you thought were unforgettable when you have a full stomach. It's hard to remember that dirty little room you rented in that house, from a Bosnian landlord, on 27th avenue and Missouri. The…

December Can Feel Like April Here

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Today the isobars are far apart.

Key West with Poo and Company

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Excerpt from Flamingo …

Forging

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Taken by agents of the United States of America, Felix Six-Killer grows up at the Carlisle Indian School near Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love. His hair is cut and oiled. His shirts are starched and creased. For months he is startled to find himself seated for…

Merry-Go-Round

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I thought the Ferris wheel was dumb. All it did was give you a high altitude view of the little Minnesota town where I had grown up.

Failed Restaurants

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Their specialty is the roasted Australian hare, long ears intact, arranged on a bed of sassafras.

Help Me Rhonda

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Walking to class, Paula routinely fishes around in her purse to be sure the condom she thinks of as a close friend, even naming it Rhonda, is in there to help her avoid a pregnancy yet, even so, Paula admits that sometimes she daydreams in that boring economics class,…

Gogol vs. Quixote

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“We all come out from Gogol's 'Overcoat'," said Dostoevsky. Well, sometimes, I think otherwise.

"If I die again, just let me go"

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Will wondered if Doobie was afraid that it might be nothing but the abyss waiting on the other side, but he promised Doobie he’d let him pass on if it was finally his time.

From The Chronicles of His Demise

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I am not the wind./ I am a stone eroded by the wind

Little Women

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The place is buzzing with little women, all clad in black smocks.

The Good Old Days

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What she didn't tell me was that her brother Carl got fried during an electrical storm.

O'Arlo's Journal: About Myself

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Every morning if I don't have to go potty....

Biography of a Splotch in a Parking Lot

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She hadn’t died. She wasn’t a ghost. She wasn’t even invisible. She just wasn’t see-able.