Most read stories

Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa is Trying to Say Something to His Mother

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The songs that she used to sing to him still dance in his head while he wrangles equations. The stars in the cosmos spell out her name.

Moony Star Moony Star

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a lost children…

Five Million Yen: Chapter 8

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He finished the omelet and started in on the short stack. He drowned the cakes in syrup. -Never can have enough syrup.

A Place in the Sun

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What grabbed the mind when you heard about it was the way he did it.

The Retreat

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This time, he didn’t admire the fish for very long. He was close to shore and tossed it up on the rocks. Before the fish could flop its way back to the water, Quentin lobbed a broad stone at its head.

Monolith

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She seems to be demanding someone donate to her a beard. No one has gone any further with this, and the electricity of her song about beards, listing, growing more undulant, crescendos.

ok, ok, so I concede

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some answers are enough to make you cry or laugh yourself to death

The Rug

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Marge bought the rug on-line.

Running

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On the way home, “Friendly honk,” he said.

Ring, Ring, Ring

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If this is trouble, please call someone else.

Wrinkles, Men and Shades of Gray

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You stand in the mirror. You see yourself. You stand sideways; your profile is always your best. You tuck in your stomach, you stick out your ass but it's the same. You stand face front. You shiver. The mirror adds weight to your already sagging breasts, the wrinkles…

Chicken

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Puddles—not his real name, as you’ve probably gathered, but the kind of nickname a fat kid got tagged with in our neighborhood—kept stopping short, picking underwear out of his ass or taking a breather. This had the unfortunate byproduct of my crashing in

Facing Mecca

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I was raised in a big city in the slow South. I know a little about cross cultural dining and where Delta Blues collides with Sly Stone, Al Green, and Zeppelin. Dirty rice in the Dirty South. Fried chicken, collards, and pintos. Fried velveeta…

Fugue No. 4

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I am learning to write.

Biz One-Upmanship 101

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"One-upmanship" is a strategy for defeating an opponent somewhat unfairly without actually cheating.

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.

I Hate You

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go ahead stick one more morsel into that piehole

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 …

Express

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

Oblivious

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It was cloudy, the way he liked it -- no baking in the sun. People passed occasionally. He sniffed at the joggers, “Health Nuts,” he dubbed them. He hadn’t exercised since his last high school gym class.

Zombies to Mars

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Perseid meteors fly past their ship like cosmic fire-wasps.

Key Tone Deficiency

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Beware superfluous color

Things I Learned But No Longer Believe

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Shakespeare had red hair / Van Gogh never painted a nude

Girls U-10 Soccer Yakuza

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“Jesus Christ!” the man screams in pain, and a chorus of “Ewww” is heard from the girls' bench, where the severed body part has landed in a Yoplait strawberry yogurt.

Helen of the Poetry World

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That night we went out to shoot some pool at the pool hall over on Durant Avenue, which was above a bar called Kip’s. Rotten Bobby walked in with his own damn pool cue, which came broken down in two pieces. He carried it in a narrow felt-lined carrying

1968: What I Wanted

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Her smile dazzled me from across the room.

Low On the Hog

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Living lower on the hog than anticipated lower on the hog than previously expected lower on the hog than desired Living on the underside of the hog belly pretty much bouncing on the ground beneath the aforementioned hog belly Living clos

Cleavage

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"Dennis," she started "exactly what the fuck are you looking at?" "Your tits" I replied.

Hometown News: Newsprint Jesus (part 1)

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I had enough judgment, anger and vengefulness from the people around me in the steel town of Pueblo, Colorado, where I was growing up. I didn’t need more from my God.

A Conversation With a Ghost

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This must never get out in the press, for it would cause widespread panic. The priests would surround my house, not to mention the police and possibly the army. Castor Desayuno has come back from the dead!