Most read stories

whispered boat

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word boat

I Don't Want to Go to the Bronx

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"... each of them stuck in one finger to sample the goods. Just then Katie felt a breeze on her bare legs. Her skirt literally moving."

War & Peace

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In the morning the fog boils up from the ground as I pad down the steps to the lake in bare feet. I stand at the edge of the water naked as a newborn.

Hope's Amanuensis

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I was low on carburetor / oxygen and my fraud protection / had just expired.

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.5 - c.3

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There were security guards running all over the place. Campus police cars, with lights flashing, at various locations in the distance. Sora gripped her books tight as they saw their dormitory building ahead.

Accidental Discoveries

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They look like giant golden raindrops, or flying saucers, or peculiar fish out of their element

On a Count of the Stars

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The number is very large/ and perpetually changes// as old stars fade, explode,/ or collapse into something not stars

walk off the animal

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I don’t know how some can do it. Can they just walk off the animal in the yard or something, and forget about love altogether? Some have that built-in coldness of the soul, I guess. I don’t get it. The blood does not seem to shake their hearts. Are th

August

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One moustache hair at moustache level on a filmy bathroom mirror. A red velvet spread on a big round bed. Dear Ma: We saw a bearded lady.

i wouldn't give two cents for somebody to love.

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money ain't nothin next to lovin.

Arcana Magi Pure Vol.5 - c.5

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Outside Natsume’s room, in the kitchen, Mrs. Saito and Emi prepared lunch. They were silent, but there were no feelings of negativity in the air.

Beer Pong With the Nobel Prize Winners

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Alcohol and American writers have always had a connection–about 70 percent of American winners of the Nobel Prize for Literature could be considered heavy drinkers if not more.

The Street to Here

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poem

Sisyphus of Anacostia

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Big Girl always stops on Talbert Hill.

Desert

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On a trail, Richard and I came upon a saguaro cactus that had dried in the shape of a human figure. Its arms were lifted and its back was stooped. I said, “It looks like my mother.”

Ben Clarone: Prologue Part 1

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The gaunt broken man walked with short quick steps on the uneven path.

Spaghettiad

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In the mode of Swinburne's ‘Dolores':For the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster- A study of the notion of “Intelligent Design” Since the universe came into dawning, If e'er this bright universe did, Men ought to know better in…

Ten Books That Have Stuck with Me Off the Top of My Head as I Make Them Up, #2

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#2 The Typewriter Inside You by Harmon Gentle—I found this one at a garage sale when I was 15. Intended as a manual for sharpening one's typing skills, by the third chapter it became obvious that Mr. Gentle's sanity had slipped, and that rather than mastering the…

Capt. Love's Last Command (poem)

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The old man is dead, body propped in its cart like the dead El Cid strapped on his horse by Jimena to save Valencia, and yet...

Monkey Business

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Benjamin stands beside his bed and unpacks his few things – wire cutters, knife, tape, line, two blocks of C-4, wallet, brush, and a small stuffed animal – a monkey.

December 1, 2016

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Polite society will cheer/ as another body is discovered// and disposed of. The cheers/ will drown out the gasps

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 8

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—So much for a cocktail at the tender hour of twilight, he told the empty beer bottle.

Legs Unwilling

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Summer bakes the metal playground slide to ripples. Still, kids line up. Sadists, all of them. Lucky enough to choose pain. Max feels it every breath, unwanted.

The Dry World

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drunkards indulge, addicts abuse

A Night in Saudi Arabia

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I walk through nameless streets, narrow and winding, past shops selling scarves, spices, skins.

Sometimes You Wait.

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Sometimes you wait by the mailbox and he doesn't come. It doesn't come, the letter, the talisman from another world you've been waiting for, and you give up. You finally open…

Truth Or Consequence - 2

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. . . he wants to organize society into its most efficient configuration with everyone thinking alike and willingly cooperating. Only then, he believes, can humanity reach its full potential.

Unspoken

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I'm waiting for your voice. My trembling hand is so damp the phone could slip from my fragile grasp at any moment. Each ring burns in my ear and makes the washing machine in my stomach tumble faster and faster. After three rings, or it could be four, or forty, I hear…

In This Moment, Rejoice!

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You did it, like, "Oh, there's a train wreck... I can't look away from the tall, leggy brunette with salon styled hair." And we both know it was certainly Armageddon whenever a woman, any woman, with large breasts which encountered a low cut top.

The Conversation

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Listening is loving. What is more erotic than these fathoms, skeins, words, roping tight the ardent ear.