Most read stories

Confessions of a Cursing Librarian

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Under no circumstances can you say "fuck" when you're working in a public library. Especially in the junior room.

Receding Haiku

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love weaves a perforated web between the spikes of longing

Out of Stardust

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Nor woke, as always, to a dark room smelling of the lavender she kept in little bottles to perfume the otherwise stank air. Outside, she could still see the edge of the moon hanging there like a lopsided smile. The early summer wind blew in and stirred the faded floral…

Rowdy

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Flash’s hackles stood brushlike but he kept his head bowed just enough beneath the bigger dog’s stare to delay the inevitable fight. Flash, Mal thought approvingly, would pick the time and place.

Ode To Poetry Slams

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It is a dark and stormy night, naturally We’re trying to get some sleep at a Travelodge in Eureka when I get up at 3 a.m. to write “Hard motel pillow receives snoring from neighboring room” O Thesaurus, we need another word Maybe it sh

The Department of Lost Dreams

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You would think that a department responsible for recovering readers from falling into the illusory realities of their books would merit an office in a less obvious state of disrepair.

Why No One Writes Epics Anymore

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No one writes epics anymore. Why? Perhaps it's because we no longer share mythologies. Once there was a shepherd, and now there is a Google bus loaded with pricks. Yes, you say, but they are good at math. Each and every one of them. And this is true. I envy them…

A Christmas Story

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Two days before Christmas 1946, my mother put me on an Illinois Central railroad train at the whistle stop of Neoga, Illinois.

Popcorn Tigers

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The last row of furniture is all black leather. In unison the tigers hop onto a couch a piece, sit calmly on their haunches, and reach for remote controls buried in the cushions. Roaring, they paw at the remotes.

Faker

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Jesus came strolling by in his sandally Jesus foot sandals.

{Fog}

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Sometimes it waited after dark, when everyone was asleep, and moved in slowly like a thief, working its way into all the ruwas, up everyone's nostrils, seemingly intent on making the people's mountain existence a troublesome one

The Scavenger

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I am a scavenger. I sit on the telephone wire, a ravenous vulture watching a man and a woman arguing across the street. The clouds remind me of ashy marshmallows I found in a fire pit yesterday. The woman starts violently shoving the man; he stumbles…

Nothing to laugh at, at all.

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The house had to be clean - I mean thorough-clean - when he got home from the pit for his tea, or he’d throw his plate at the wall and the gravy would run down onto the carpet. There was always gravy.

Route Four

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The little girl spooned strawberry yogurt into her mouth as a pleasant morning breeze swept across the balcony of the hotel. The girl lifted the cup and stuck her tongue inside to lick the yogurt off the edges. Across the small round table, the girl's mother sat…

History of Moon Velveeta

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Only ever been twelve men on the moon. And one cheese.

Waffle House Worker Survives Wild Ride on Car Hood

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After three teens took off without paying and he clung to the hood of their car He wasn’t trying to be a hero sandwich or otherwise but climbed onto the hood when they tried to run him over There was some question and dispute over th

Ordinary Boys

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There is no hate in his eyes...

Like Worship

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The bartender keeps asking what you smell and you say: lemons, oak, and pear. I smell lust. We move to the reds. Pinot Noir. Cabernet Sauvignon. Port.

Lint Trick

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Those socks? Nope. I'd look like the joker in the commercial, the creep with the pollen issues and the triangular smile. What a genius. It's the part off-screen I can't forget, the part they left on the editing reel. She's crumbling the crackers into her soup, that dry…

Poya Day

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Prabo was late. It wasn’t like him, I thought, sitting on the steps of the Galle Face Hotel, the Indian Ocean pounding the beach abutting the nearby Galle Face Green and spraying fine mist everywhere. Or at least it didn’t seem like him.

Centipede

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Five o’clock, and Madame choosing her evening legs. Elizabeth assisting. Elizabeth will continue to assist until midnight, despite the chaos, at which point the authorities will tell her such assistance is no longer necessary.

I stood next to Richie Havens

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fuck you Charles Bukowski go cry in your eggs in a Jersey diner

God's Vial

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The porous bear the anchorite’s vial

Tough Love

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If they don’t cover consequences in your gifted and talented program, you may care to research it.

The Game

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We touch the places now, feel the hardness of bone...

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.

Sunset/Another Wasted Day

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He leans against the truck, the sun sinking on the day, shadows inching down the side of the house, yawning towards the horizon.

Micro Trilogy

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

The Ann chapter

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The way I felt was as though you were, every day, making the conscious and deliberate decision not to be with me, not to share your life with me—and not to share my life, that you were choosing not someone else, but something else.

Cell Phone

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Hey, how are you? she squeaked.