1645 5 3
|
Rose lifted her 55-year-old legs until they were perpendicular to the bed and admired how girlish they looked. It gave her the sexy legs of a 20-year old, if the morning light was right and she squinted a bit.
|
164540
|
|
1645104
|
The aisle, nave and/
transept twist themselves/
into an auditorium.
|
164554
|
It was uncomfortable to realize people had agendas. That there could be invisible realities.
|
16441210
|
What did it mean? What would a psychologist say? Oh, who cares. In my opinion, we ask why, what, when, where, and how too often.
|
164454
|
I found the hand eight months ago, after I planned to grow a meadow of tiny yellow blossoms in my yard.
|
164430
|
The Snowman grinned malevolently as the Sugar Plum fairies shook in their tiny powdered boots."Santa has one more hour and then you're all marshmallow toasts!" the Snowman said. He laughed and he laughed. His evil plan? He wanted the key to time delivered to him personally…
|
164443
|
Auto and the Grease-Pits
Sugar Cube
Full Frontal
The Holy Grill
Crazy Al and the Squirrels
Talk Is Cheap
Grilled Cheese Sandwich
Cold Zippers
Destiny Howl
Epiphany Critter
Cold Kneecaps
Crepes
Pulled Pork
Baby Seals and the Club
|
164430
|
my molars are dancing, tekka-tekking to the strung-out paint can groove of my heart.
|
164421
|
A look flashed across his face as if someone had hooked up his genitals to a car battery.
|
16442110
|
The fly comes in against my will/
and hers. She would prefer/
the wider world with its piles of shit
|
164474
|
Each memory of Fall reminds me of the harvest; Surely this is not a thought to turn the thought of dying. Black the turning point, there is a glint at the tip of the wing: Perhaps it rises from its cinders as I wish when I was waning, …
|
164477
|
I’m decades in and it hasn’t gone away.
In all other respects, I am normal. Life
is hard, but I’m not complaining. The thing
is, I am in a constant state of falling.
|
1644149
|
everything moved in circles
like the music, the booze and the drugs
|
164431
|
Your favorite nickname
existed only in the bright red
cherry smoldering
at the end of your smoke.
|
16431210
|
|
1643103
|
Palms planted firmly against his temples, Travis paced the room like a caged animal. Giant black bats screeched in his brain, their pointy wings scraping at the edges of his cranium.
|
164387
|
I supposed reluctantly that Princeton is soft as Macalester College is soft. A person could die just for having attended U.W.-Madison or Yale.
|
164323
|
The email landed in his inbox.He'd been staring at the empty screen for a while now even though, really, he hadn't been expecting anything to arrive, yet there it was.He sat and stared, not daring to click it. He knew he shouldn't have sent a mail in the first place. He…
|
164398
|
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…
|
164340
|
We’re more into the punishment that works its way in through the skin and coats the heart anonymously.
|
16431410
|
A woman posted a story on Fictionaut about discovering that her husband was a werewolf.
|
164300
|
Megumi paused for a moment, understanding Mrs. Akamatsu’s concern, but looking back at the Society, she shook her head in rejection.
|
164343
|
A story about convincing people to do things they don't want to do, written entirely in dialogue; originally published by CHEAP POP.
|
164321
|
This was before the cancer, years before. He did this every day: up at five, before Astrid and Max. Four cups of coffee in the machine. A bowl of granola. Five hundred words. Five hundred words no matter goddamn what. Five hundred words on Sunday and Chri
|
164396
|
Erased. Like chalk across my body,
a fine powder of forgetfulness,
with a few swipes --- all those names
and faces, gone. The letters burned.
|
1643105
|
addict for validation and cat tongues
|
164211
|
1. Poor grammar does not sleep. 2. We'll never finish every idea we have. 3. No matter how hard you try, you still might make it into my book
|
164230
|
I see ghosts. They accost me in their sleep. Hundreds of them. When I wake up (after a long night of half-waking), I think, What wold ghosts want with me? I have nothing for them. But at night they're there again, watching, tapping my shoulder as I lay awake. Sometime…
|
164233
|
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.
|
