Most read stories

Estate

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In the kitchen they discovered the instruments. A flute under the sink tucked behind a rusted silver pipe. An oboe on the floor in the pantry. And a violin across the ice tray in the freezer, now dark. "Not ice," sister said, holding it up by the neck.

Our Kodak Moment

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“Should I go over?” Ma asked, wishing she could freshen her lipstick while finger-combing her frosted hair. “Sarah, fagodsake, let the man eat in peace. No one wants to have his picture made with food in their mouth,” said Pa.

Another Plastic Surgery

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He told me to count backwards from 10. I was out by 8. He was now in complete control of my life – what a helpless situation.

Healing Romance of the Rose

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The dying rose spoke to the wood That kept in it's heart a love of good And all that was in bloom It could not let that happy rose Fret about in terrible death throes Would not be its tomb.

Some Last Things

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if you whisper your truths, they'll disappear

First Contact

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All through their descent sequence K’var had nervous premonitions.

Headstone

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On the ground deputies comb the back roads. Border Patrol scouts from the air

Dementia

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They should have shot me when I turned 80, a bullet right between my sunken eyes.

On A Trans-Atlantic Flight

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I used to think I could see God in the clouds. Not in an indefinite expanse of clear blue, calm and crisp and quiet, desperate in its infinity, but somewhere up there, among the water vapor masses between us and eternal sky. Not in gray and grumpy nimbostratus, nor fine…

Moth Woman

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I sat on the top step and watched the woman go down and stand in the middle of the room, raising her hands as if to touch them and I half expected the moths to lift the ends of her hair, the hem of her skirt, and fly away with her.

The Sound of One Story Clapping

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And aren't we are so then so rarely The hero in another's story When we want to be. And why are we so always Rounding stories on the heroes Who don't want to be? And aren't we are so then are so rarely Heroes in each others' …

Addict

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...what will happen to me buying drugs on the street, at night...?

Petty Injuries

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Fault and blame can be forgotten after three steep flights of stairs. Pregnant-lady-take-the-elevator kind of steep. I-said-elevator, holy-shit-she’s-falling kind of steep. A-faked-relief-when-the-child-is-born, but-born-special kind of steep.

Quitting Smoking

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After the affair was over, she told her husband she’d been smoking. Obviously he didn’t know, but he knew. One can never hide the fact that one has been smoking. He said he could smell it on her.

The Statue of a Writer

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As I sat down finally, finally to write, some brooding heretical hour of the night, with my ballpoint in hand, poised to blot page, Time gathered momentum, although I did not age...

10 Easy Steps to a Better Intellectual Life

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Let’s face it, there are simply too many things too know these days.

Zero

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My round belly is deflating. I disappear a little more by the day. It's been weeks. Soon, I may not even be here.

Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen

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My name is Mandy and I'll be your narrator today. I'd like to welcome you aboard. You will be reading at the approximate speed of one hundred words per minute. Total estimated reading time will be about fifteen minutes. At this time, I'd like to point out several of the…

Eli

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Eli the dog cocks his head like a pistol; half cock, full cock.

Europa

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The sink spat its water in a most erratic and vindictive fashion, with varying temperatures of discomfort and a nefariously mechanical nonchalance. Her arms are elbow deep in the misbehaving appliance, it looked to us as if she was drowning a small rodent

THE PREVIOUS ADVENTURES OF POPEYE THE SAILOR

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It's an easy thing to take out an eye.

Ping Pong

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In between, they love each other madly, fuck like the rare....

The End of Février

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She got the day wrong. It was one of her usual mistakes, getting the day wrong. A Wednes for a Tues. Or a 5th for a 6th. Sometimes it took her until afternoon to realize it. Which probably meant that it didn’t make much of a difference anyway.

Throw

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She was a dead bird the morning I found her, wings clipped in dirt and blood vanished into tiny braille maps on concrete.

The Color of Pebbles

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...her touch held such wisdom that it put babies to sleep...

A Day in the Life of a Supermodel Armpit Makeup Artist

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“Skip the obsequies,” he said. He meant “flattery” but he’d been taking a “30 Days to a More Powerful Vocabulary” course.

Don't Rub Me Out Now

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Don’t rub me out now, not tonight. Or if you do, do it right.

Jared Sampson's Mom

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She died in a car crash yesterday. She was driving down Hawthorne, past the strip mall with the Benihana’s, when her ’05 Corolla unaccountably careened over the center meridian and into oncoming traffic.

Wild Dreams Of Reality, 3

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The following day, I was so nervous that I decided to have a drink to keep a lid on my nerves. It wasn't even noon yet. They say that's when you know it's getting bad, and that drinking has become a problem. But I hadn't gone out with anyone in over fi

The Ballad of the Summer Grains

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It is a day of swallows and grasshoppers, of white clouds and suntanned arms. In the yellow field wheat ears burn, lit by fantasies. One of wheat, one of rye. Summer love, holiday love is in the air. Under the thickness of the harvest, their roots search, call each other.…