Most read stories

A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte

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A woman is fishing in the Seine at the far left of the painting, while time is suspended and light remains. One man plays a trumpet. A half dozen people sit or walk under parasols. Couples stroll and children run or sit or stand beside their p

Mutterings

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That old woman's got to be senile or something. The other day she asked my daughter if I had a "thing about water." Sharon told her I didn't, but then came right in and asked me, "Mother, you got a thing about water?"

A Body Unable

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Once again there's too much to handle and no space to process

Party w/Your Parents' Siblings

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Her mother sighed, fingering the faux-pearls around her neck. Barbara's neck tensed, almost as though the hair on the back of it would stand up: Here comes a platitude . . .

It's Next Door

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The old lady from next door had been really quiet for the last few days.

DRIVING WITH JON

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“There’s no real freedom in this world. But a car and the open road is close enough for government work.”

A Word About Everything

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I remember having a beer once And feeling like a minor god And I know in some lie you told Your life began making sense And I also know that the mind likes logic But the heart loves chaos I just hope flies land on the butter of your soul

Wild Dreams of Reality, 13

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At 7:30 that evening my brother knocked on Parker's front door. When I went to let him in, sweat was running off Darrell's head like he'd been hit by a water balloon. The air was absolutely unmoving, and there was the smell of tar from the asphalt in th

Time Travel Telephone

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And now, the weather. The Cloud Wranglers have roped three solid clouds this morning, preventing the clouds from raining iron bars onto Human Brain Storage Center #17.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 37

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—Frank, how is your sex life?

She Waited for the other Shoe to Drop

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She Waited for the other Shoe to Drop

Mercy Mercy Mercy

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When I was young and self-born in religion my aunts, uninterested in being washed in the Blood of Christ, called me Preacher Boy. I didn't pay them any attention. It was fine by me, I said, if they wanted to sit around and paint their toenails . . .

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.3 - c.1

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It was like Azure was dictating the tempo of a song. Fluid in motion, and a story told.

Hello Cheryl

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“Hello, Cheryl” the voice on the other end of the phone replied. It was strong but raspy, yet quiet and controlled. The fellow sounded like he had a frog in his throat. “How do you know my name?” she asked. “I know a lot of things about y

Consider the Living

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we're not at war / with the world. We have papers.

This Is

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Have you ever spent twilight in a old pasture?

I Am the Poetic Kiss of Death

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My poems have appeared in four different publications; three have died shortly after they ran my stuff. Coincidence, or something more sinister?

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…

Chapter Two: Oracle

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The first thing I saw was a sandal, but it didn't exactly look priestly. It was golden and glowing, and the foot it was strapped to had red painted nails. The straps wrapped around her ankles, and up her slender leg, tied off in a bow below the knee.

Battleship

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You compare the brightly-colored wires sprouting from the bandage wrapped around your stepson's head to a bouquet of flowers. The tech sits in a chair next to Brett's hospital bed and holds up line drawings of common objects: cats, boats, skyscrapers,…

Bearing Witness

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I hold them to the light...

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.

Shakespeare's Dark Lady -- John Hudson (review disguised as fiction)

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William Shakespeare (a surname that meant "wanker" back in the day, by the way)

Winter's Presence 2010

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A short triangular plastic shovels into the/White plastic container filled with topaz crystal-like/Salt granulars. Scratchy sandy sounds echo.

Placeholders

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Everyone falls,

Misplaced Emotions

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I spent most of those days in my car. Stashed in the trunk was a cache of precious stones, neatly sorted and separated, bound in smooth black velvet inside a smooth black briefcase.

A Game of Dodge Ball

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Mo Dean woke up sober. And tired. Tired of life, of soiled pants, rash, vomit, and whiskey sweat. Tired of holes in his pockets and blisters on his feet, of hanging signs asking for dimes and getting only pennies. And most of all, tired of the police.

1970

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deformed or retarded

The Rug

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Marge bought the rug on-line.