Most read stories

Anthropometamorphism

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I have known a head become / a callus, matriculate, stop / shaving, move to Vegas

Towards the End of Memory

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This will be the century of infinite sadness,/ sadder even than the Twentieth/ with its expansive catalog of horrors.

Whoami

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A woman with fallen breasts is attempting to hang her laundry on a string. Two tall men mount horses and ride them into the meadow. A squad of children wrap themselves around a playground.

Spitwads

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Two types coexist- the sanguine/ and exsanguinated./ My skin is cool/ and pale as moonlight

Size Times New Roman

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“I’m making a dress,” she said, feeding the pages through the sewing machine. He didn’t know how to answer. “Are those my books?”

SYCAMORE STREET MORNING

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"S- E- X -- ever heard of it?"

Five Million Yen: Chapter 18

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Detective-Sergeant Claude Mulvihill was seasick. He was in a New York City Harbor Police boat in the East River headed towards the George Washington Bridge. There was a good chop in the harbor, which became worse when the Police Boat reached the Battery.

Self Inventory

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Life, like a kite string, is slipping out of your hands

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?

A Little Idea

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I have reasons to believe she’s been stealing.“ “Stealing what?” “Steaks.” “Steaks?”

Off the Grid

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The slicing is easy. Blade barely touching skin, flesh separating into two clean parts. A breath, and blood fills in the space, an old friend materializing in the shadows. I am redolent with hope and desire. I can't stop thinking of how he excised himself from my…

The Vermeer of Shoes

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My flash kept going off. The museum officials are strict about such matters. Sans flash! Sans flash, Monsieur!

Virgin

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Steven was a hollow tree of a man — outwardly normal for a tired fortysomething, but empty inside. He lived alone in an old farmhouse that reeked of decomposition and Lysol, the previous tenant having left a dozen skinned raccoon carcasses in the attic.

Luce

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Lucy shrugs into the corner of the train's seat. She envelopes her IPod in both hands as if she's praying or holding a conch shell: safe, secure like when she visited a Morcombe beach in the school holidays. The only giveaway's the white headphone cord.

Cougar

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What follows is one of those moments, though to some people, it would seem a fantasy, perhaps a "Wizard of Oz" era tale.

Real Love, Real

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For the first time in her life She felt she understood The smell of a man. The smell of white tulips, The taste of a persimmon In her mouth. She remembered how married she felt To him, in that moment. How close To the earth, and ancien

Sacrifice on Maple Drive

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Sacrificial vic bleeds out . . .

Ode to Flannery O'Connor

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Gert sat in the car and wiped at the inside of the window while the defroster blasted at full strength. The shards and slivers of ice that networked across the windshield were just thick enough to hinder visibility. Bane wrenched the door open and shoved

My Date with Edgar Allen Poe

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Now, if someone is tellin' you that she had a date with Edgar Allen Poe, you might be tempted to say, "Hey, sister, what kind of drugs you be doin' for the last two days?" But I swear on my Aunt Boo's chastity belt that's what went down and with my…

Caucasus

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On shingle of seashells & Bullet shells, Ghosts drift along the shore Of the Black Sea.

As Poetry Month Ends, Prosaic Types Get Their Turn

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“I’m going,” O’Bannon-Krim says with exasperation as she throws trinkets such as Dylan Thomas beer coozies and Edna St. Vincent Millay hair scrunchies into a cardboard box.

Excerpt from "Change" where a 1963D Quarter is followed for a hundred years.

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May 1890 Rifle, COLORADO Only pressure can change one thing into another. In terms of time, the…

Whirl

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Wanna,wanna, whoop de loop. Hold my baby, kiss my mom, dance the way I used to do. Desktops, blacktops, cut and paste, speed down hills, learn the rules, Sister Saint Marion, married to Christ. Sixteen, life-green, pink tights, Swan Lake, an…

D.H. Lawrence Ghazal

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How many shadows in your soul? Close your eyes, my love, let me / make you blind as the wings of a drenched, drowned bee.

Nope - song

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The tax man he is coming But I got me no dough Been looking for some new job That’s going really slow I bought a lottery ticket But dropped it down the well I went to see the psychic She said I’d go to hell Can’t cope, I just can’t cope

The Tongues of Spring

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Another new spring and the leaves

Mommy Dearest

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His daddy died in his sleep. Went to bed one might and never got up.

Still

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Later

Souvenir Des Choses du Passé

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Let's say maybe you're in a place your mind has never left, and let's say maybe it's Mississippi, and let's say maybe it's summer with kudzu throbbing green all around you, and let's say maybe she's a Sagittarius girl, standing in that driveway with her young breasts…

Burger King Blues

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Read signs sometimes and you just might get where you're trying to go. When Eddie suggested they stop for a Whopper, Dennis said no. "Fuck Burger King, man. Let's get that Wendy's up there." They got…