Most read stories

Morning People

15821582 views00 comments00 favs

she thinks she looks good in her short red dress, black makeup around her eyes, last night's lipstick a slap of crimson on her cheek. "like this," she says, holding the hammer above her head.

The Code of Hammurabi

15821582 views55 comments55 favs

We pull up chairs. I breathe in her Bath and Body Works vanilla, read her paper slowly and aloud because the ears catch what the eyes miss. Her sentences are awkward, stilted.

Phenomenology- Short Stack

15821582 views2121 comments1010 favs

The fly comes in against my will/ and hers. She would prefer/ the wider world with its piles of shit

everything moved in circles

15821582 views1414 comments99 favs

everything moved in circles like the music, the booze and the drugs

Dead End

15811581 views33 comments22 favs

I unwrap my #4, the greasy smell wafting over my nostrils, and I pause, with the understanding that this will be the highlight of my day, and that I should savor the moment, and then I bite in.

Thing To Do In Deptford When You're Dead.

15811581 views66 comments00 favs

Velvet answered the door in a red leather dress that was made with just about enough material to make a wallet, and looking like a long limbed drink of water calling out to a thirsty man.

The Night Shore

15811581 views33 comments22 favs

Somniloquies rise like the drowned . . .

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 40

15811581 views88 comments55 favs

—Mazel tov, schmazel tov!

What People Do With Their Hands

15811581 views33 comments33 favs

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…

TRAUMA

15811581 views77 comments44 favs

Everybody breaks. Everything splinters.

Max & Julia

15811581 views44 comments00 favs

I heard the basketball hitting the pavement in the park across the street, right outside our window... I heard it every day in an evenly spaced rhythm, as if it was keeping time, like a metronome on my life...

Catch & Release: Dog Person Depression

15811581 views33 comments22 favs

Instead, I get things like, “Why can’t you find a nice man with cancer or a bum leg?”

Ethnomathematics

15811581 views33 comments22 favs

His academic nightmare is set in an examination hall, where the student takes a seat at a folding table in the center of the room.

T.S. Eliot On His Deathbed

15811581 views99 comments66 favs

I guess at the end you’re only looking forward. Or upward actually, since you can only lie there on your back looking upward, straight ahead toward infinity, your mouth in a grimace, with the ghostly pink lips peeled back from the teeth.

Rising

15811581 views55 comments44 favs

The coin, so little, the watch chain, the youth, the fading softening speech, each hand and finger, the panic modeled on your own eyes, the ashtray, certain stumps along the way, the long distance, the odd feather, the jazz rope gone,…

Epiphenomenal Glider

15811581 views55 comments22 favs

Hissing through the opening, the spirits have no place.

Flamboozled in the Beak

15811581 views00 comments00 favs

I was looking for an inn to get a cup of calf soup before jacking ribs at the mutton joint. Feng calls, running numbers on an engine zone out in the valley.

My 27th Great-Grandparents

15811581 views1515 comments1111 favs

Early Spring, 1075, Northumbria: Judith, too ashamed to speak, too angry to cry, waves her handmaiden away. She wants no food. Wind drives icy rain across the thickness of…

Greener Than Thou: Saving the Earth, One Smackdown At A Time

15811581 views22 comments11 fav

Are you a hostile person who gets into trouble when you express your anger? Would you like to annoy the hell out of people and get away with it?

Sleeping on Route 110

15811581 views66 comments55 favs

in the deep dark of a 2 a.m. atmosphere

The Trapper Boy at Work, One Mile Underground

15811581 views88 comments44 favs

The coal carts come and go like the seasons, never stopping.

A Change in Status on the Facebook of Cement

15801580 views88 comments77 favs

First he wrote it in wet cement at the intersection: “Tad Loves Kimberley,” with a big heart around it. He was real proud, you could see. But then later on that year, the graffiti began appearing everywhere, on all the store walls: “Kimberle

The Suicidal Juggler

15801580 views44 comments44 favs

The man wore a bowler hat and stood on an open patch of grass, with a pyramid-shaped stack of baseballs at his feet.

A Life of My Own - 4

15801580 views1010 comments44 favs

"Middle class workers and working class poor and the unemployed will soon be forming a revolutionary movement to break this stranglehold of corrupt elites."

Souvenirs

15801580 views22 comments22 favs

It is a hot August night — the same kind you remember from that summer after high school graduation. A cool breeze blows in off the ocean, sweeping across the boardwalk just hard enough to dry the …

On the Roof

15801580 views77 comments66 favs

Marie was on the roof. The deck, with its cool concrete pavers and faded cedar Adirondack chairs, was one of the reasons she and Harold had bought their condo in this building. The only ugly part of the roof was the chain-link fence along its edge; soon after they moved…

Mother O'Grady's Last

15801580 views55 comments44 favs

Christmas night was closing in at the Cantrips alehouse in Aberdeen, a firm favourite for riggers and other men and women who lived life close to the horizon. Sometimes, on a Saturday night, things might get a bit rowdy but Mother O'Grady would stand firm and bring out…

Arcana Magi Pure Vol.3 - c.1

15801580 views00 comments00 favs

Emi stood up and turned to Mayumi. She did not know what else to say. There was a sense of helplessness.

A Scalar Boson a Day

15801580 views44 comments33 favs

. . . the empiricism of the mechanical had wound tight into her, lessons her few calendars could never impart without aid from sundials, hourglasses, clocks.

Infamy

15801580 views11 comment11 fav

These were the kind of days children dreamed of. A warm sun shone over Coronado, California. December weather on the island did not prevent outside play. The wind off the bay remained soft, even if chilled. Church let out early. There was time to pla