Most read stories

If You Have to Have an Ism

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This is a lady who never got a break.

Motel

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Brody was standing against the wall with one hand in his hip pocket, as if he was holding a gun. The motel was set in the undergrowth of several weedy small towns, but a flashing neon sign made it impossible to miss from the road. We used it as a safe hou

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!”

Blind Observer.

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I sat there, observing the city people. Frowns upon all our faces. The rain moistened my heart and journal. A blind family; a trio. They used their wands to lead the way.Their faces read joy but, most importantly, satisfaction.My envy filled the damp page.

Proud Military Wife

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Back when they were younger, David was always gushing about every little thing in his head, and his openness appealed to her as much as his muscular frame did. But after that year they spent apart, he was always ... smiling. Smiling and vague.

Ages One Through Ten

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Age Eight: Custody battle. Reassure your worried mother that it’s alright, this will give you something interesting to tell your children one day. Until now, life has been very vanilla.

Flash'em Tag'em Bag'em

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On a hot summer day in downtown San Francisco, a flasher gets more than he bargains for when the woman he flashed at a coffeehouse pulls out a gun.

Children's Time

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During what's called "Children's time," one day at church Sarah slides her left foot halfway out of her tiny ballet slipper to show Davie her toenails are painted the same soft pink as the inside of her shoe. "Look," she says. "My…

Writer's Envy

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You may think you've tasted envy, but yours was just a sour sip of wine at a civilized wine-tasting. Mine is bottom-shelf, well-brand gin in a biker bar with miss-the-urinal piss stains on the floor.

NEWS

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Truman sits in his car on an early Tuesday morning. He rolls down both front windows down, but despite the infusion of fresh air, the car still smells of stale meat and sickness.

Assiduity Four

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Her clothing style varies from grunge to glamor and . . . she always looks good.

Portrait

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Hers or mine? You figure it out, jackass.

Light Eyes

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Once, when he had been married for a year, she sent him a card which said, "If you have seen a cat smoke a pipe, you have got it made." There was an illustration of a big, black panther, standing up on its hind legs, smoking what looked like a big tub of

Waiting for the Voice on the Line

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hoping for a happy outcome/ like a kindly voice on the line

Bosch's Last Words

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I / go my / way alone

Extra Ticket

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My best friend died yesterday. His name was Franklin Seever, but we all called him Lin. It started when we were in Little League. There were two Franklins on the team so Coach, who was my dad, called the fat one Frank and my best friend Lin.

A CAPITAL TIME FOR TWEETING, PLUS WHEN TO SHOOT A MOOSE

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“Buy Shoes On Wednesday and Tweet at 4:00” is a new advice book which tells the reader the best possible time to get everything done, from flossing ones teeth to visiting Zanzibar. As a public service, I've used the information provided in that book to create an…

The Letter

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I knew nothing about the letter at first. When I came in that morning and smiled and said good morning, it was a genuine smile and a heartfelt good morning. But the letter, which had arrived the previous afternoon, was already doing its corrosive work of

John Ruskin doing a Swan Dive

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She used her right breast. Lifted it to her chin, aimed at the can, and shoved it down as hard as she could.

Dark Site

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Though some days... I feel as though I'm nothing more than the ultimate hedged-bet should the offender be living out his last days on earth, holding my arm as we both feel our way through the long dark corridors of tragedy.

Your Move, Blattarian!

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Scavenge at that address only if you feel possessed of great courage, a profound faith in resurrection or reincarnation, or an impatient desire for a premature date with certain death.

Short Cuts

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The shop is swarming with little women.

Drama Days

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And you lean forward and all of that caffeine anxiety rises up in your throat, the pressure in your jaw, a series of weights and pulleys on your teeth and at the back of your mouth. So when you open your mouth to talk, no sound is made, only the sound of

Puerility

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--So, why are you here?

Blue Line Southbound

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Brazilian girls yammer with their book bags up against my leg.

The Piano Player’s Dead Rejoice

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Requires one of those leaps.

The Yellow Room

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...the knives she laid out on the porch before her husband left her, washed and dried, set neatly by copper pennies.

Three Prayers for Rain

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Still no rain. Eight months, says Hollister. More like nine, says James Earl. We stand in Hollister’s high meadow, what’s left of it.

whip

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under a laughing moon

Devoured Worship

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This wasn't going to be about her anymore.She tied her strong purple balloon to the neck of the wounded horse. Her skirt and her top felt like armor's breath. The tingle across her scalp felt warm. Small rug scrapes that made her think of her last dog, before she died.This…