Most read stories

Corkscrewing, Pt. II.

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Well, just put your hand on my knee, alone in my room, perv, unasked-and-unflirted for, go get a date, you coward, you limp-dicked male bitch . . .

Creative Handwriting

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I found the hand eight months ago, after I planned to grow a meadow of tiny yellow blossoms in my yard.

I Follow

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Her shoes, left uninhibited below, seem sad but understanding, and she is so in love with something, which makes me so in love with the idea of her.

1992, What I Wanted

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To be a backup dancer for Billy Ocean; that's all. I had chubby legs like a baby. They turned out akwardly as if I had broken hips but mum said it was just the way I came out and I would grow out of it.

The Interview

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What follows is an interview George Bush gave to Barbara Walters in 2006. He came off like something out of a swamp. Dick Cheney made them deep-six the tapes and we never saw it on prime time. I got the transcript, however,…

The Canoeist's Luncheon. Renoir

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The artist leans back in his chair, smoking a cigarette after lunch, looking away from the table toward the right He is dressed in white, and he's practically stretched out his entire length, to relax after rowing the boat all morning. Sunlight

Windfall

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It turned out Eel’s brain corrects for imbalance, and he can only feel danger for a moment or two.

The Sweetness of Youth

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On my twenty-second birthday, in the spring of 1979, I had a crawfish boil, my first. Ninety pounds of red mudbugs on a picnic table spread with newspaper, my birthday cake sitting at the end of the table like an afterthought.I hadn't…

House of Dreams

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The cat wound itself around Megan’s neck, its purring curling through Megan’s consciousness. She was the cat and then herself, both things at once.

Txt msging

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Forty years later he was still her Romeo, she his Juliet.

Valentine

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"His middle name is Valentine, and when asked about it, he isn't sure why."

Hands Like White Porcelain

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Jesus is for sale. But he’s heavy.

Thumb

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I’m trying to get this said, this piece of fact. If I am a person who can own something, then that something that I own is not me, not me as a person. I do not own my foot, my foot is my own. It’s like a whatsit, a semantic distinction I’m trying to

Carousel Horses

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From this distance, he reminded me of a sleazy pink flamingo, waiting for feeding time at the zoo to deepen the timbre of his feathers and hint at the promise of a narcotic aviation before his commune of hens.

Odysseus as Superintendent

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No king of Ithaca, but of each/ whining, banging, dust–clouded island/ of focused, physical work

What People Do With Their Hands

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I said, “If this rose doesn't grow another petal in twenty minutes, I'm burning down the neighborhood.” “Just let it go,” said Paul. “No,” I said. “That's what's happening right here.” “You'll try again next…

chicken coup

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" I have no idea what's goin on out here, and I'm gonna find out one way or another."

One More Silver Dollar

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Culloden County, MS - 1989 All Janine knew was the idiot had a gun. As to why he would ever need one was beyond her. He couldn't look dumber holding it, either. He was too small for it, or at least he looked that way to…

Cruelty

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...when they decided to teach her a lesson, it was with particular vigor and vitriol...

Terror From Above

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A shadowless torpedo shaped form plummeted from the grey, overcast skies upon the many unsuspecting. No remote pilot thousands of miles away guided this particular descent. 

Chatter

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The night before his mother's teeth began chattering.

Salem the Dead

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My father's cousin is Salem the Dead. Famed, an infant Lazarus of Libya, he was brought lifeless from the womb, yet awoke to the chill of a mortuary slab.

The Hound - Part 3

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The bullet split her head in half before she could finish her sentence. Her blood sprayed out onto my face and covered my lips. The taste of life as it suddenly ended.

Blackout

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The blackout lasted longer than anyone thought. From my fifth story window, the whole city seemed to shut down. I heard noises above me. How could it be?

Tax Tips From Tila Tequila, Professional Bisexual

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“We’re never going to get off the treadmill of paying ever-higher taxes," I said, "unless we get some creative suggestions from a professional bisexual tax advisor.”

when i take a hint, i take it really hard

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it's the constant reminders of something that was never a constant remind her but i suppose there is no ticking clock on that which is wondrous and it was right right it's hard to come up with cleverly phrased universal truths and it's hard to make…

Passage

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She didn't want to let go of the crumpled tissue she had been holding all this time, as it is wrong to litter, but she finally did, and felt free. Released. Bad. Naughty. Almost orgasmic.

Road to Nowhere

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I could smell a bold combination of cheap perfume, stale smoke, and sex excreting from her weathered pores. The bus engine hummed as we climbed a winding road. She scratched her neck and tried to finger comb through her knotted hair. I caught a glimpse of

Monsieur, Monsieur, Nous Avon Pamplemousse!

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He came running out of his narrow little shop, Berthillon and chased me down the Ilse St. Louis street, saying, “Monsieur, Monsieur, nous avon pamplemousse! It’s ici, Monsieur. Your pamplemousse. They just come in this matin, morning and I’

The Creative Use of Meal Time

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We’re more into the punishment that works its way in through the skin and coats the heart anonymously.