Most read stories

To Zephyrus

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In a field of barley, I see you, ...

Silent Night

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The church of the self.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 34

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—Now that’s a hell-of-a-painting, Frank, he said. Those colors are engaged in warfare. How the hell did you do that?

The letter.

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I am useless. A freak. Different. They all hate me now. All except you, of course. You will never leave me. Never. I'd kill them all if I could. Every single one. But twenty-four, that's a lot even for me. I'm so sick of the cliques; the special groups and hastily strung…

You Don't Need To

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You need only one who notices.

Edge of Wolf

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edge of wolf howls and howls past sunflowers and skeletons

A New York Moment

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Harvey C. Hamby was drunk. Usually he held his liquor well, but tonight he was off his form. Stumbling over an ottoman, he landed on the floor in a sodden sprawl. As he fell, his left foot shot out behind him and socked Glenda Steinberg in…

The Three O'Clock Sun

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Here the three o'clock sun is an old patched up fellow, with a stained yellow beard, walking in a small crispy rain of brown leaves, looking at something that requires a bit of squinting no one else can see, on the far side of the softening…

Friends

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I reach out and grab a can of soup with each hand and spin them around to dive into this much-heralded sodium situation. It's a landslide. I almost smile as I put low sodium back and continue to hold tightly onto regular.

The Wind Is Going To Take You

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Before the railroad tracks are blown off by the wind, the wall tiles morph to trace 34th Streetwhile a silver balloon emerges from the end of the tunnel. A child’s hand reaches out for the gleam and she, the woman in a black-dress with a mandarin collar,

My Glass is Waiting

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The trouble with alarm clocks is naturally that they are miserable. And their curse is that their misery is useful: we employ them because we want to get away from them. But we would never have one as a friend.

Assiduity Twenty One

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Blue skies greet us as we exit the forest . . .

In Brief

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I can admire Falling Water and find Mr. Wright a complete shit.

Noodle

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Our painter man was killed by a bunch of snotty kids who were making fun of him. A gun went off. What is a noodle to do? He wasn't sitting alone in his world, anymore. Where was his famous straw hat? His trusty pipe? He desperately needed to smoke…

We're all Mad here. I'm Mad. You're Mad!

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She heard the quick footsteps and knew where they were headed. Running down the hall she knew she “only had 1 hour left and there was no time to waste”.

Noises

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Another noise, softer than the first: swish, thud. You are still. The house is very loud tonight.

George Burnett's Secret

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He roared back at her, shaking his empty gun in his right hand, waving his left hand in the air. “I am George Burnett, esquire, late of Balliol College, Oxford! I am a hunter, a killer of pigs! I do not fear you, bear; take the pig and be content!”

Need food for family

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The young man pulls out his wallet, grabs a couple of bills and stops short of handing them to the bedraggled man. “So how do I know you’re not going to go out and buy some crack with this money?”

Folk Music Returns to Roots, But Some Try to Keep Them Buried

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“Sandy likes the way Bob spanks, when he’s done she gives him thanks."

Sarah

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Rumpelstiltskin cried because you belong to me;

Deer People

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There was no provision for keeping the post on the door, but I did not have the fingernails to pry it off.

No Word for Enchantment

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fanned lashes on rouged cheek a glamorous sea creature in violet perfume

Firefly

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Smiling at stones and chunks of earth pounding in...

Your Depression On Replay

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I offer you a peanut butter sandwich full of unconditional love and you say I'm being controlling, so I let you eat cake, eat cake.

If Blake had only known

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Everything is bound to change like / a damsel to the tracks.

Carrying you

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I woke up to the humming of an empty space in the shape of a sweatshirt,

Sit Down, Here.

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“The window is a much better place to read,” she said.I wasn't aware she was talking to me, at first. In my typical manner, I was thinking about far off possibilities and realities completely detached from my own. Yet, here she was, a far off…

underwater with their thumbs

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And your daughter, Mrs. P, and your daughter Mrs. Q, underwater, underwater in the old swimming hole, in the backyard swimming pool. “They’ve all got children there.” La la. Yet when I’m naked, when I enter with my own body the mirror, the small sha

No Good Hubcaps - song

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I got no good hubcaps My van is up on bricks It's held together with duct tape And a couple of crummy sticks I caught the guy who did this And tied him to a tree I kicked him in the windpipe And kicked him in the knee I'm a man witho

I Russian Bride - Letters 1-6 (novel excerpt)

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Online dating. Russian women. Beware.