Most read stories

Back in the Shower

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Naked, we stood in my shower. When she kicked my tool, I noticed she had a toe ring.

Supply and Demand

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There are 1.45 million readers of poetry in the US and 2.9 million poets. The odds of an audience are bad.

ROLLING LIKE THUNDER

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The ocean smelled like decomposed plant life and clinically despicable vagina, but I still spoke of its power and my fear of it in moonlit clichés and she still listened.

'MY DICK IS SO HARD FOR JESUS!' by Christofascist Jones

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"Now, I'm not no Holocaust Denier . . . I just think it was a little bump in the road! Like Reagan said about Watergate . . . 'Mistakes were made,' and all. Well, shoot . . .…

Goatee

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"I'm in a wrestling movie!" you shouted.

Rocket

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The rocket shone in the distance. Cape Canaveral had never looked so pretty.

Broadcast From Earth Deli

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I have no confidence that you'll complete the task. Shit, you probably don't even understand it in the slightest.

Arcana Magi Cross: Kame's Song

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The waves assisted in pushing him forward, until he reached the dry sand. He saw a small resort town ahead. The lights were out in the businesses and homes.

Soliloquies of Mr. and Mrs. Macb.

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A small bar of glycerin soap floated in the sink full of bloody water . . .

A Not-For-Kids Dream That All Boys Have

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The room turns red and I start screaming and ejaculating. The whole class is watching as Mr.Smith slams down my copy of the test with his right hand and swiftly tears off my penis with his left.

Salinger Pays Caulfield a Visit

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Out in the world again, pretending to belong.

New in Town

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He had a handsome dial tone, we called him every name but his.

Where They Have to Take You In

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Sunday morning beginning with a bang. Accused, found wanting, sentenced.

An Orphan of Fire

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I break your flesh and make music on the harp of your bones.

What Old Tamber Had to Say

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“They say she lives alone out there.” “What, like out in the woods?” “Not like way back in a cabin or anything, but in a little house out there off the road. I'm not even sure she has a car.” “What, does she…

Just Who Does Miller Think He Is?

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This new kid on the block, named Miller, showed up out of the blue one day, while we were throwing rocks and boulders down on this flimsy gray sheet of construction plywood that was covering an open trench in front of a new house on our block. One of the

A Coin, Two Coins

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It hangs unspoken in the sadness he pushes through his harmonica, while his hands work the old, beat-up guitar that tries to be a Gibson for his fingertips.

Ring, Ring, Ring

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If this is trouble, please call someone else.

The Sluice

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Everybody knew Billy Miller. He had messy hair and crooked teeth that he hid behind a thin-lipped smile. He and his friend Jimmy Rodgers, who everyone called Cock on account of his red hair that stuck up like a comb, were inseparable. They liked to ste

Luz Maria

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Although badly educated, and although the Michoacána fought to deny it, she held the complex notion that borders are not abrupt lines, simple artifacts of geography and cartography.

How to pick up women.

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The easiest and most legal way to pick up a woman is to take a single, writer friend with you to a bar. While there, look for the woman you are interested in. Her? Are you sure? Okay then. Next, tell your writer friend that the woman keeps looking at him when he's…

It Came to Pass After This

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We sat in silence, the entire train, the few other passengers in anxious wait to see if I would change my mind. We all flipped pages, glanced up at each other, looked away when noticed.

Yellow

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Slipshod shoes were the first sign of a meltdown. Sometimes she could see it coming. A prickly gentleman washing his clothes on a Thursday afternoon. One week he’s fine. Nothing wrong with owning a sour face. The next Thursday, his shoes don’t match.

Geneviève's Voice

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Maybe this very short story is about shyness. Maybe. I'm not sure.

Grocery Deliveries

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I was shooting baskets in the driveway when the Mexican kid delivered the groceries. He drove in fast and loud . . .

The Crest

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All I wanted to do was lay in his smell, I had missed him and didn’t know it before now. He got up to urinate at one point and his absence was obscene to me.

Static

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The days cut off by damp chill with every thought a different variety of protection.

Hector's Record Collection

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Zappa, Santana, Hendrix.

You Don’t Know Jack.

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Susan said since her divorce three years ago there have been too many Jacks in her life. Seven, if she counted that older guy. She knew that now. Too many. It was the name and little else that drew her to men. She told me the name alone was like Pavlov's bell. It…

The River Where His Lover Lay

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“He put his stuff down—sunglasses, lotion and so forth—and I noticed there’s a little notebook that he didn’t have before.‘What’s that?’” I asked, and he said ‘Nothing.’”