Most read stories

Noises

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

Afterworld

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We suffer// the one agony only- of having no longer/ any physical effect nor way to speak/ of what we watch to those we watch.

Nose

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At the conference her boss showed off his knowledge of wines.

Bad Clean Fun

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It was cold and clammy, but then it got worse. Far worse. Any opportunity to celebrate the unity and harmony of tolerance was soon cancelled.

Ink Play

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Lying on a high seat in the south study, this is what I see:

You're Breathing My Relapse

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I was an alcoholic for ten years, starting in my early twenties and continuing into my thirties. Then finally, after many attempts, I got myself straightened out. My son's birth finally did it for me. It wasn't like a switch flipped in the delivery room…

A Requiem For The Heavyweights

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Breathe a stench of Eton musk...

Falling Towards Oblivion Avenue

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At some point, you care/ just enough to wake each morning,

Abyss

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When Lois finally found him down there, Johnny was wedged between a large rock and the trunk of an old, long since fallen, cottonwood tree. She said as she got to him, she heard his gurgling breath, fighting fiercely to stay alive. When she saw the deep, gathering, red…

Headlines

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He brought me flowers once, three wilted carnations I put in water, though the sight of them made me uneasy. He brought me pictures once, too, of three sisters—ten, twelve, fourteen—straddling dirt bikes. He touched my shoulder once, as I edited pictures …

Cassie Fly

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...the relatives didn't seem nearly as fucked up as she thought they would be considering...

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…

Open Wounds

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Where the skin had grazed, shredded by the coarse gravel to form scabs, fascinated Jack. It reminded him of his youth and his own grazes, scratches and stitches. As a boy he imagined scabs were rough foundations of igneous rock, blood like lava pouring th

stung

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Lust

trenton

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his word

There's a Pube in My Coffee

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Connor didn't bother to wait in the line of busy professionals, opting to cut in front of the sign that announced "Line Forms At Other End."

Real life

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He bought damaged and used sex dolls online.

The Judge's Wife Part 9

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Suddenly something clicked.

In The Wake

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Any form of exertion would defile what we are trying to do

Unsent

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this is where we end -- the exorbitant eye of forgotten days.

You Shine Brightest Under the Starlit Sky

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You shine brightest under a starlit skyThe moon reflects your beautyAs the wind sings your name sweetlyIt was under the heavens that we promised togetherThat I'll hold your hand and you'll be mine forever... You glow brightest when the sun is at its highestYour radiant…

Go Wild

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Sometimes you have to go wild; you have just to go fucking nuts. You do.

A city in the forties

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Along the hollow center

Visitation

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We sat up in bed. It's ‪two o'clock‬ in the morning. Blinding circular flashlight beams probe through the half pulled shades. Magnified black silhouettes of men's torsos lumber back and forth in the yard. We are in a fishbowl and being invaded.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 56

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—Can you handle a threesome? said Isabella.

Strange

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Words are looking ever so strange today like a hole in space a wind in a cloud a face superimposed over a mountain

Watching Stanley Kowalski in the TV Room of Belle Haven

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That streetcar named Desire, it don't hardly stop for me no more. Leastwise not while I'm awake, and I don't have to be telling no nosy aides why I make them noises in my sleep.

Everybody Be Cool, This is a Robbery!

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Wesley did not rob banks in Banning County. Wesley Roberts was the sheriff of Banning County; robbing its banks would have created a conflict of interest.

Excerpts from 'Dispatches from the Front: My Life in NE Portland—diary by JENA RACHEL ROCKWELL (year 08)'

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I'm getting self-righteous here, Dear Reader . . . [hey! wait a second! this is my diary! what are you doing, looking at it, dude! Hit the road! Scram! Vamoose!]

Carrying you

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