Most read stories

Melancholy

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I went to the lake,to our spot. there were daffodils there.i smiled at that, then cried a little.you want to hear something funny?they scare me. they are so, so yellow.they scream caution.I almost keep walking, but the sun is out, and I am…

Jammin' On Duane Street

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I have cherished the memory of that meal since and have sought out Indian restaurants all over the world. San later told me that the best Indian food was to be had in London

Or

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I paid the doctor / You paid the doctor

Diary

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Ivan was used to explosions, but this was high in the sky. He was on his back between tall sunflowers that grew infinitely in all directions. The blast made the flowers bow their heads. Bits of debris fell from the blue sky, some shiny, trailing fire or smoke. The boy…

Still Life (55 words)

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It wasn't so much the softness of the bed that kept her from sleep, or the pungent bleach-scent of the unfamiliar sheets, but the lack of her clock's familiar tick, tick, tick. Or was it a missing heartbeat? Awake, she watched his chest. On the table, an empty pill …

Reciprocation

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"I have a prehensile tongue," he said matter-of-factly. "I know how to make you feel good." Such confidence, I say. Prove it.We're sitting on the couch, watching a movie, but not paying attention to it. We sit side-by-side, my leaning into him, and his arm is around me,…

The Celebrity

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Mr. Blumberg and I sat side by side on a small couch in the family room. He was watching a football game on TV.

Ruptured, Weeps the Hole: The End (ELECTRIC DELIRIUM 10)

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She dips a toothpick in ink, running prick over paper, simply to prove herself wrong.

Silent Noodles, Swimming Pools and the ACLU: What I Learned From Magazines This Week

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You might want to think twice before inviting Henry David Thoreau to your next dinner party...

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 37

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—Frank, how is your sex life?

White girl/boy angst

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I’m secretly hoping for a huge bouquet, a fruit basket, a pickle jar of urine in a lunch bag on my doorstep, even.

The Glass

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Not only half-full/ but stress-fractured

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…

Our Merchant-Ivory Weekend

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“A shibboleth is a test—a way to separate da wheat from da chaff that's as old as the Bible, but as new as the latest trend in men's fashions,” Gus says.

Who Loves the Sun?

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beat them with fists and purses.

Gluttony

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I become the accumulation/ of appetites

Send

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Send me a secret story in a song just for me

The Widow Teasdale and the Ineffable Warmth of Personal Services

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Her cash. It smelled like seven-dollar-a-quart gardenia perfume and cave aged cheese—like hope overgrown with mildew.

Diplomatic Relations

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I fully intend to show Hamilton the delights of soft Oriental carpeting and a delicious new position I learned not long ago. It involves a silk scarf, a leather strap and some aromatic herbs.

dream girl

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friends come in dreams

HOTEL PEOPLE

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It's 6:45 a.m. A gritty, mundane sort of magic pervades the air at "Valentine’s" in the Hamilton Hotel.

The Apartment House

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Everybody called her The Crier because from time to time we would hear her crying.

Thick as Thieves (my new gang)

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He reached into the bag on the table and pulled out a ten inch record, sleeved in brown paper, with a circle cut out to display the label information. He handled it delicately, like a fresh egg.

Knees of the Dragon

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I never could run properly. It’s kinda hard when you’ve got scales all over your body and a big fat tail that gets in the way.

The Game

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"We're practicing," she signs, "for an earthquake."

Unwritten

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You’re never really asleep. I am never awake. But as the darkness fades, I read. Your body tells my story.

Please Blow Me.

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[TURN-ONS: willingness. TURN-OFFS: rejection.]

The Raisin Effect

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I imagine diving into a vat of dried fruit, enjoying the unmistakable sweetness in each shriveled morsel, until I find myself biting into an undetected metal shard.

Tostoi's Last Fiction: a footnote to a note

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The note was a lie, multiplied through each member of its potential audience....

SWEET TOOTH: The Ballad Of Kola Kubes

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Trisha dreamed of being a Playboy Bunny since the days she still had buck-teeth and fried egg boobs. She blu-tacked page threes above her bed-head and had me snap topless Polaroids till they littered the floor. She told me to imagine she had 36DDs and per