Most read stories

Small Talk

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Her fingers scampered over the table, practicing the deft stitching of the basilar artery.

Badface Investigates - Fighting

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I’m lying on the floor curled up in the foetal position and about six people are stamping on me. [...] It’s really confusing down here, what with all the kicking.

Jackpot

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Lucky for mama, he doesn't like for his women to work.

Instinct

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They coo and gurgle in the warmth of twig and down. They are so delicate, hard to look at without thinking of death. I tell them I want for them chief among all things strength, speed, resilience.

My Period Blood.

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[CAUTION: IF YOU ARE UNDULY "FIXATED" ON GOD, AMERICA, MOM, APPLE PIE, AND/OR BASEBALL ... YOU MAY WANT TO AVERT YOUR EYES!]

Faith

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... black holes suck in matter and supernovas explode.

Klarheit oder Genug

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F.B.I. then or: "I said later 'for a boob job' and imagined her, a public lawyer, wandering Arizona on foot unable to hide a Playboy-Mansion style rack."

Parallels

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“I honestly can't believe how much you eat, honey.”, Lenora said as I put down the fork after gorging myself on breakfast. Twelve pancakes, four eggs, two cups of coffee, a glass of milk, and half a pound of bacon had passed through my lips this morning. …

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.

Boomer Tunes Pop Quiz

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If you're a Boomer, your brain is teaming with decades-old Pop tunes that you just can't forget. The real reason you can never remember where you put your keys? Too many of your brain cells are clinging to every last lyric to “Fire and Rain,” “Free…

You'll Stand At My Graveside (after Mary Elizabeth Frye).

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Don't throw earth on bones.

July 4th, Austin, TX

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It is July 4th, Austin, Texas, just after nightfall. On the bridge, downtown, I sit against the curb with my husband, his best friend, the best friend's wife, whom I have recently become acquainted, and their baby, Sasha. We're waiting for the fireworks to…

Express

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Once, asked what time it was, M. replied, "Eternity."

Van Gogh: Sidewalk Cafe at Night

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The heart of those stars is a dab of yellow light. The darkness of the blue night appears so deep because the downward strokes of the actual sky are interspersed with a violet that’s almost black,

A Bitter And Unseasoned Business Attorney Makes His Case That "Crazy Heart" Is The Perfectly Nasty Ending

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In closing, Your Honor:After the interview Bad Blake, a/k/a "Otis" takes "Miss" Jane Craddock back to his hotel, ties her up, and gives her a Cleveland Steamer. For reference, please refer to my Brief, Exhibit A, showing a thespian named Ronald Jeremy…

Snatch XIII

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Yet...

Falling Off The Roof

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"As the thing lurches upright, I can see now that it is an old woman with snake eyes… a dead old woman with snake eyes and peeling flesh. She is putrid and maggoty. She is coming right at us. She is my mother."

Tarot

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I am the boy with the olive skin who takes pictures of lewd sex acts performed by nobodies on stage at the Rock Creek Lodge Testicle Festival in Missoula, Montana.

deflated

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writing because it's the only drug i havesick on sadnessas the weight of the moment crumbling around me comes down some sweet second inspires…

Sandyfall

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Before Sandy, there was hype of Sandy. On the third day of hype, the broadcasters laughed. Then B-O-O-M, lights out, houses flooded, and Obama was re-elected.

Until We Died

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. . . hot sand and quiet ocean only.

Travis & Jared

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“Now I see clearly my whole life is pointed in one direction — there never has been any choice for me (Travis Bickle, "Taxi Driver").

Consuela, Your Love Chaperone

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he took me hostage as I came out the door. Nelson took me hostage and we went back to his parents' house. They were gone crappie fishing so I had to spend the whole weekend alone with him. I didn't have anything lined up for Saturday night, so it wasn'

Listening Room Night

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The surroundings, he thought, are just as important as what's surrounded.

A Writer’s Ramble

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In every writer's room there is a bogeyman born in the closet, growing with every blot on the virgin sheet, feeding on the pain of writing, of solitude, the failure, the rage, the confusion, the helplessness, the fear, the humiliation. The narrower the…

Struggle Has Ended

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Shh! What? The downstairs neighbors. They’re at it again. What? It’s the weekend? They’re both home? Oh. Remember? I think so. Sort of. Shh! What’s that grunting? He must be doing the heavy lifting. Sounds like he’s hurt

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 9

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Warren Jeffries left this girlfriend of his named Karen, who was also a poet, and overnight she announced she’d gone back to being a lesbian, she’d so had it with MEN! She did a reading of her new series of Sappho poems at Cody’s Bookstore,

Volume

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Something reached into Avi and took his voice, turning his volume to zero.... A short story of one day. A man going to work, a little magic, a car crash, and a wedding.

Dark Horses

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I'm in Joel's front yard when I dodge the third call from my divorce lawyer. I'm here for Joel; I can't seem to show up anywhere unless it's for someone else. We watch his son, Andy, push his bike up the hill. This is the…

The Thousandth Day

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She pictured the President leaving the hospital a few days later, hobbling on a cane. Jackie beside him, Caroline and John-John dashing from a waiting limousine. He couldn’t die. She’d looked into his eyes. John F. Kennedy spoke to her.