Most read stories

Need and Desire

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“I mean it, Hanna. I don't want you to.” But his leg felt carved away where her head had lain. One stupid thing jostling another for attention. He was afraid that if she touched him again, he'd have her on the ground.

we're already at the movies

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israeli flares light gaza/ casting incandescent nudity/ upon jumbled puzzle piece buildings.

My Name is William Hurt and I Am a Movie Star

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Not to sound too ridiculous, but Hurt was giving me the hurt, and it felt good.

Larry's "Gonna Die" Parrtayye

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When we started plans for the party, none of us wanted Larry to die, most of all Larry himself. Actually, when we first started plans for the party, Larry wasn’t dying.

What We Know but Can’t Describe

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We know them just enough/ to recognize them when we find them.

An Obituary of Comedy: The Life and Times of Munnu Shahbaz Kalandar Khan

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Sir Reginald Lionel Windsworth described the match in Englishmen's Lahore Gazette as, "A plethora of mistakes and complete absence of human sense."

Want

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I want you closeI want to feel youinside me,softening me untilmy borders are blurredand I'm hardly breathing,my heart swellingso big itbrings me to my knees,I want to know thepain of losing youeach time youclose your eyes andgo to sleep anddream of someone else,I want to…

THE RICH RIVER

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I must have been six years old at that time, but the events of…

The End of Fun and Games

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A procession of our somber youth— stoned and stunned and broken beyond repair—viewed the boy carved of putty. The mortician painted him stuffed him, presented him to us, the semi-living.

The Tale Of Brave Grinelda

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Once upon a time in the days of old There lived a poor tailor who- I am told- Did brag that his daughter Spun straw into gold!

Lives and their rivers

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The pristine Hudson's/waters dance in the dark of/the East River's rinse.

Quicksand

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At 25...

Owl, Glass, Deer

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He calls it an owl glass: he’s allowed: he’s six.

The Havisham Complex

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Zinvushka Zokolovskaya and I first met at the local botanical garden.

once upon a time in Sumeria (2)

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THE man in the tent with the stick points to the chart on the wall and says to us all: the stats point to the end of the war by the end of the fall. A just war, not just oil. Just then Allah's shadow comes over the scene. He's here to stiffen his troops with some …

Wink

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It's just another night in the old city, perched in the skeletal radio tower with my collection of telescopes

Estella

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Everyone loves a story of love unrequited. But what about the stories of the unrequited lovee?

Mississippi

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“I won't live here,” Beth said, waving her hand to indicate the small Southern town in which they were having dinner—the most delicious fried chicken either of them had ever tasted—in a restaurant located in an antebellum mansion. She looked…

match point

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two roses her eyes aqua-blue no, blue-green

Girl With Glasses And Skinny Fingers

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Girl with glasses and skinny fingers playing with wires

Taking A Walk

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13 rooks on a lifeless tree

Dada- Age 1

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He keeps saying it, babbles the term like he knows what it means and we wince and interject with mama, mama, mama,

PARK

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Shadows from a star Never too close Never too far

The mannequins

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I try to enjoy my bookbut the mannequins keep tapping at the windowWhen I look up they vanish Outsidefibreglass clouds are kept in placeby invisible wires——Sometimes the mannequins …

Against Disorder

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It is true that the college dogs spread vermin, reeked and shat on the soccer field...

Midnight Mass

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Mom wraps a bulky-knit scarf around my face and over my mouth. She tightens it into a big knot in back of my collar.

Stretching to Understand

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You looked like someone I didn't want to know. I guess that's why I got in the car that night. My penchant for self-destruction was aroused by your black nail polish and the lavender circles under your eyes. You looked like someone that could hurt me, yeah, that's why I got…

Text Adventure

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Twenty-two tornadoes tore through Toronto, spiraling steel and stone to the streets where she stood, texting her best friend.

9/11

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He laughs and runs just like the other boys even though he doesn’t have a father now, just his mom.

Yellow Dining Room (from The New Yorker)

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...you should pick a VERY OLD millionaire. Very old, and NOT VERY WELL...