Most read stories

Dead to Rights

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He draped the sheet over her body. Blood spotted the fabric, rose petals on snow.He left the pistol, but pocketed the first edition she'd signed. Part of his fee.In the park, he ditched the glasses, fake mustache, and anorak before making the call.The publisher called an…

Phyllis Shapely

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In December of 2003, Daniel Arredondo succumbed to his years long battle with colon cancer. If the name is unfamiliar, you're not alone. He did not answer to the name Daniel Arredondo. For most of his life, from seventeen years old to the end, in fact, he went by the name…

Family Friend

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My student assistant was a comely young woman. A freckle faced blonde. She was from Ohio.

The Color of Sleep

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Have you ever seen a body of words give birth to a paragraph? I won't lie. It's a little gross. But quite moving. First there is the biology of reproduction. A blackbird living in an electric guitar, for instance, and its inexplicable urge to mate with an elephant.…

I Wish This Was Fiction

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The convalescent home's common areas are surprisingly well-appointed, given the neighborhood, which makes his actual living quarters that much more dismaying. Poorly lit, dusty, stifling, the room reeks of socks worn for weeks on end. My nostrils burn, and my eyes…

I Haven't Slept Properly

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The rain is filling up my shoes, I can’t see through my glasses, Rain all inside me.

Highway 17 South

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did I read that right?

On Women

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She was prepared

Oyster

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"Maybe…" he began searching for some comforting wisdom. "Maybe it's like this. Husbands live for their wives. Mothers live for their children. And children...well...until they're husbands or wives, they live for themselves."

Countdown

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My bones will rob me blind, corpuscle by corpuscle.

White

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This is what it is to feel yourself forget.

The Sky Bent Over Backwards

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and coughed its grey net over the candle lit world outside. Birds of an arrow sprang into thin air and disappeared over the hills in a quick shortness of zoom-breath-- like a stiffened branch snapping . It's cold. There're …

No. Please, No . . .

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["LIKE SAND THROUGH THE HOURGLASS ... SO ... ARE THE DAYS OF OUR LIVES!"]

Elephant with a little Poet on its Head

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“Every word was once an animal.”--Emerson This circle has been Broken. The mother has Disappeared inside the wounds Of gunfire like an Eye drop. Who knows if Any of them left, crunched Down, whole into the…

Summerset Bangs from Oldtown

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blackberry pie and huckleberry wine and litte Maria with her summerset bangs

Cassie Fly

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

crave

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The look that warms.

mondays get all the heat

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when i was five or six/ we lived in an apartment/ and every sunday/ i'd lie on the carpet/ to watch squares of sunshine/ crawl across the rug/ while my mother inflicted upon us/ a centuries-long hour of television/ worse than any droning mass.

We Wore Our Hair Long

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You don't have to push back so hard. We wore our hair long. We wanted the animals to trust us in their wild open spaces. Everything will come undone. We wore our hair long because we wanted to Be able to find our way home in the dark…

The Court of the Vassal

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“I believe this is a case that is very much worth our time. Its probably the most important case thus far in your reign,” Henry said, “my lord.”

Five Million Yen: Chapter 67

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Anatoly Gringovitch sat in the police car returning him to the Opera House.

Bio Bit

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It was your present world that seemed more than mad to me. Your polished stiff brown shoes that always squeaked like mice, while the latest rude Bombers bubbled up in their comfortable Dart-board garages like apple pies…

Any Given Recent Day

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Ten-year-old Bobby Akins learned that a shotgun shell struck on its brass end with a hammer can indeed take out the left eye of an eight-year-old brother observing the proceedings close by.

Her last good year

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“We are NOT starving!” I stated emphatically. “What ever gave you the idea that you are starving? Honestly, Annie, you are so melodramatic. You have food in front of you right now, don’t you?’ I said pointing to her plate of potatoes and so

Linear A

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let’s press our words into the clay/ in language so completely dead/ we have to re-imagine it.

The Song of Jerome

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"My love is with eggs!"

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.

Speak

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She can still be normal, says Momma, knowing my sister can’t hear, forgetting I can.

Messages from Upstate

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My eyes are wide open. I look like a graphic novel. My world is black and white. I’m poorly drawn. All sounds have an exclamation point.

Name

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Every day, I write myself further away From the East Where we began