Most read stories

Three Micros

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The earth moves.

Walking To Gibraltar, Chapter 3: In Which Everyone Was Wrong

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What's the protocol for telling people your spouse has cancer? How do you tell your son, your friends, your co-workers? How do you tell your mother? How do you tell her mother?

Black Bombers

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The missions never change:/ To plant a bed of fast-blooming/ Flowers of annihilation/ Across an unspecific plain.

Reverse Order

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Robert wants so badly after reading a book where a man wakes up as a bug to wake up as a bug. He researches the avenues of metamorphosis where science has been where it is going. He is disappointed that of all things science has turned into other things, none…

Regarding Viet Nam

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At some point, my lottery number/ was in the mid 300s. I was safe/ for whatever reason. No need/ to burn my draft card.

Wet Work

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blinking out

Daddy's Teeth

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At night, I wake up, and Daddy's in the bathroom with a hanger in his mouth....

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

Justice

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“Too dumb to live,” my wife said when cretins on a motorbike blasted around us nearly taking a side mirror with them.

The Last Campfire

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The bearded old man, raised his weary body from the bedroll he had slept on last night and slowly stood up. Bones creaked as he worked the stiffness out of his joints, the pain and memory of endless days and nights riding the…

The Prize

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The fish would need a name, but she didn’t know how to tell if it was a boy or a girl. Did fish have penises?

Superlative Land

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You are walking through a canyon made of shelving units lined with colorful masterpieces of three-dimensional minimalist design

Birdhouses

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

Home Health Care

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But what if it grew into a nasty tea party-ish bimbo right winger -- a little Michelle Bachmann nubbin?

Real

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That was the start of it, the vigils. Every night at the foot of the Gilt Spears a group of people congregated in a housing estate to look up at the stars. Housewives with working away husbands, fractious toddlers hanging upside down…

In The Kitchen

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drips of blood vegetal

Portrait of a Sunday Afternoon

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Your grandmother has gotten old, in that way where one day you wake up, and you realize that someone you've been looking at your whole life suddenly looks different. That hands which used to gently place band-aids on scraped knees are…

Every Woman Adores a Fascist

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We liked the orderly Newtonian/ with its fundamentalist action/ and reaction, its rules

Spoiled Meatloaf

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In a small, cozy diner lived a homemade meatloaf. The meatloaf spent its days lounging on a warm plate with some mashed potatoes and sweet corn. Together they watched television, argued about sports, and ate blueberry pie...

Micro Trilogy

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I start with a morsel of truth, then hide it with lies...

Sunrises and Borrowed Pages

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I'm sitting on the B-line toward Park, and there is a woman with the same black bob as Mad TV's Miss Swan, and she is leaning the whole front of her body against the whole pole in front of me, and even though there is plenty of space around her, she is pressed up…

The Model

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My art teacher hated Salvador Dali.

B00bs

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They stride the earth of their own accord, knocking down bridges, buildings— obliterating whole towns with each pendulous swing...

~the scent of dead roses~

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i killed a poetic boy yesterday. the old ladies in theshadows swore at him when he was walking home proud ashell with a new pocketknife. they told him we dienext week so laugh like you got limes for balls. hecalled them drippy old vultures in his native tongue.they didn't…

Gasoline

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Her hair’s the color of LA at night On such occasions when the Santa Anas Have left the hills bone-dry and burning bright

For the Wives

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She parks the car and trudges insidefor her daily visithoping that the new rouge hidesthe old tears.Five years now she has been comingto see himHe looks nothing like the pictures toanyone but her.They say she should go homeand rest, relaxShe doesn't know how…

Buttermilk

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I brimmed with sexual energy and it flowed about me like a buttermilk, silk robe. Rich and thick, musk-laden and fortified with my own particular brand of woman.

To Build a Fire

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One frozen hand protruded from the snow.

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

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.