Most read stories

The River of the Parched Spirit

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anxiety said Kierkegaard is the dizziness of freedom

Ballspenden

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Even if you're doing it together, there's no unity when everyone's dancing to their own tune.

Aubade Faucet

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I. he leans his messy head against the walland contemplates his wild mistakeshe discovers a nest of red spidersoutside his rotting basement doorhe watches television in his socksand…

Arcana Magi Zero + Pure - c.4

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Everyone kept up with Nemo until the scent led them to the edge of the city. The elders sniffed the ground and found Satoshi’s scent into the stoned woods.

Blemish in the Blood

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Warning: some of this is true, some of this is not.

The Perfect Note

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Everything needs context, otherwise reality would be nothing more than stardust with a spark.

~switches and shade~

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  mis-placed       the change           she goes looking for.        her folks        missed another hour...          her worth-while spent wasting        the voice wouldn’t leave the leaves alone.

The Hero in Heart of Darkness

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Remember the equatorial heat, the flies,/ the lurking hum and scream of jungle,/ the squalor? Remember the functionary.

Beach Scene

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Larry works the concession stand / near the pier.

Tarzan on Mars

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Tarzan peers through a telescope. Earth, in its aphelion, is approximately 40 million miles away. A star. He lives alone. He is old. He worries about going blind. Mars is cold. But there are ways to keep warm. He reads poetry. He lets out bloodcurdling…

The girl laughing in the dictionary.

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Trigger Warning.

Hungry

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Why do people kill themselves with food? It’s obvious, I suppose. They’re hungry.

The Ferry

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The two of them stood at the long end of a pier that cut sharp into an L 25 feet out into the river. It was an old wooden pier that relished in its every crack and splinter regardless of the fresh coat of white paint that melted lazily over the rotting bo

I'm Dreaming of a Nihilistic Christmas

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The mind sparkles with Shakespeare. It's like hearing the rain fall. The world becomes silent and dark and the rain becomes snow and falls like snow and rests on the ground like snow and informs the mind with the values of heaven. A distant oboe pins its sympathies…

What I'd Have to Call My 'Meatsack Family'

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This story is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental and unintentional and should not be inferred. (Really!)

Guinness for Iron

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My sister / craves raisons

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…

TRAUMA

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Everybody breaks. Everything splinters.

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.5 - c.5

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Getting answers felt like it was not enough. Madam Mayweather wanted more. She wanted to hurt someone.

Reckonings

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

The Road to Ensenada

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One of the men leaned over and spit long and dark next to where the dog lay curled. He said something about the senora, and the other men laughed.

Spittoon (w.c.55)

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“I’m pregnant,” he says...

Memoir 2.1

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Anyone thinking they aren’t alone on life’s journey has their head up their ass.

My Third First Novel

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One of the publishing industry’s dirty little secrets is that first novels sell much better than second novels. So why not enhance your chances for success by calling your second novel your first?

Australia (from slushpilemag.com)

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Now Ninalee gets up from the table. She starts to put some snacks in a bag for Janny and Benjie, and some storybooks in there too, to read to them in the park: books about trains, mostly, and there’s one with a bus and one with a car...

Sugared. Spiced. Salted.

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They continued sitting by the fake oasis, drinking single malt, eating soy crackers and chatting about the quality of escorts in glitzy glamping resorts. The Paring happened on number three. Just as the gold leafed chocolate fondant oozed decadent Bolivia

Assiduity Sixteen

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I'm fascinated by Don's evolution . . .

Context and Confessional Poetry

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I like babies and little kids, more than some people but goddamn, children's laughter out of nowhere (in the night, when you're not expecting it) is creepy. I don't like slugs smeared like nightmare goo on my summer-bare feet, I could do without them in …

Hardware Store Tour

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The Plaza had a chess-board floor, green wood booths, and the lights stayed up. I might be combining a memory of Fitzie's in Binghamton. The Plaza felt like a preppy soda fountain with beer.

A Dialectical Digression

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It performs the dialectic that intertwines real and ideal through her mounting concern about being choked to death then eaten by a very large pig.