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Arcana Magi Zero Arc 2 - c.4

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Marissa sat on her knees placing her hand on Alysia’s head. Her eyes held back her tears as she watched her daughter’s eyes shift back and forth.

A Night In a String Of Long Nights

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Whatever innocence Michelle had brought to the game was long gone, even the part where she dreamed she was the star of a righteous, asskicking movie.

Startle Reflex

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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.

Sweet Tooth

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There was a hole in my tooth. It wouldn't let anything go.

threes

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i am either lacerated /or ill at ease / continually subject to gusts of life

On Not Having an Affair With a Flamboyant Minor Dadaist Poetess

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It’s just that—well, I don’t know how to put this— With a Dadaist poet a non-affair is the height of erotic bliss.

Reckonings

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Even in the fading light, it looked big enough to disembowel a man.

Radical Middle-Aged Cake Acceptance

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Cake is not the enemy.

Transcription of Audio: Meeting with Miss Jewel Eppinette

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No one has touched me for a long, long time and I believe that is why I am dying. This is a notion that is new to me but it has persisted over the last few weeks and I believe I finally have apprehended the truth. There was a time, I remember all too well, when I might…

All Of My Monsters And Beautiful Women In Dreams

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1. Lamia I slapped the venomous dream from his mouth before he could spit in my eyes; fuck him and his rage, fucking Tonton Macoute or whatever he was--and I got the hell out and away from that house and the fires that raged on all floors, and I fled…

So long

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Years later he surveys this place again to post something, anything. He plays "sex on fire," sounds that once fueled him. Now he knows the song is about VD, not unbridled potency. Names and words all seem at once familiar and numbing and noise. He once wanted fame or…

Every Thing is a Hole in a Thing That It Is Not (A Theoretical Fiction)

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A is a hole in the series of letters, each of which is also a hole in the series of letters.

Did you ever kill someone?

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Well, yeah but no one that wasn't pointing a gun at me, mostly. I shot at a lot of people but there were only three times when I can honestly say I know that I blew someone away.

Wax Lips Opiates

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The Syringimals were filled to their 60 ml capacity with a gelatinous ocher blood. They fluttered around using sparkly wings stolen from Disney fairies, and attempted language through wax lips that were usually secured with scotch tape.

The Bedbugs

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Cockroaches in bed was the last straw. Alicia was sure she’d swallowed one in the middle of the night . . .

Our Own

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The world is upon us. The only thing that matters Now is if you are willing to be seen by them. Many moths Will be hidden by simply gathering on the bark Of the one tree, but this will not sustain you if you Do not also have the courage…

Nine Elephants and an Ass

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Nine sated elephants and an ass sit around a decimated Thanksgiving table discussing the state of the union over the hacked to bits carcass of a twenty-three pound turkey. Two years in to The Great Communicator's Lame Duck term and the nine elephants, whose…

Serving Up Apathy

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"Did you want that with the shrimp or the chicken?" the waitress asked. "Uh, shrimp is fine" the old man replied. "I'll be right back with some more bread" the waitress plasters a fake smile on as she walks away. 'What the hell am I doing. I've got a BS i

Today the Smell of Worms and Wet Pennies

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Martin Heidegger wore hearing protection out on the tarmac at JFK. The runways were broad and he danced and leapt with the freedom of a Cats performer while he guided planes to the terminal.

How to Be the Most Hated Person on BART (London Tube, Tokyo Bullet, or Any Public Transit)

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The daily slog on public transit is a battlefield. Tensions are often higher than a presidential debate, but throw a wrench into the gears (or a tree branch onto the tracks) with any “severe delay,” and add in one or more of the below faux pas, and we’re

Camp Lake (excerpt)

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In retrospect, we should have been a cult.

It's End of the World Karaoke

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It’s End of the World Karaoke at Big Daddy’s and Lara takes a photo of herself for Facebook before she goes on stage. She’s holding a basket of nachos in one hand and her phone in the other. After she takes the photo, she says, to Javier, “Hold these,” an

Doppio Macchiato

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Sulawesi-Kalosi brews bitter and watery without proper care.

On the Empire Builder

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Naked American Apparel models romp with elk and antelope, and the Ghost of Richard Nixon directs traffic with the grace of a Wounded Hyena.

Tongue / Giddy

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A delicate thrill buzzed my face.

Cleaning Man

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The Zone is a garden of skyscrapers. Every building is a model.

Winter in Waveland

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They build them high they do in Waveland, Mississippi.The tall houses with their skinny thighs spread wide flirting with the dusky coast, like antebellum ladies petticoats lifted, stockings wetted, ankles bared, savingtheir hems from the unpredictable tide,…

a can of emotional worms

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Is any person is worthy of the kind of ache?

Thursday at the Office

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David looked at the plaque sitting on top of his computer monitor and wondered if he’d even touched it since he’d placed it there. He picked it up and brushed off six years’ worth of dust into the wastebasket on top of the mustard-stained sandwich wrappe

Corrections & Clarifications

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It was Fredrick Miller, not his murdered son Matthew, who was executed Monday night at Henshaw Prison. (the system won't take anything under 200 characters, so this part is just to take up space. please ignore)