2042 13 6
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When we say "Nanoism is looking for twitter-fiction serials for its current contest," this is one example of what we mean.
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204154
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On the Rocks What matters these, to all, below the crest… If privilege of mind-blankness is the bay's? Remembrance breeds no fathoms of its rest- As plumb the circuit lulled, at each rephrase Of capture,…
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20413518
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She doesn’t notice the small group of women in saris, emerald and garnet, sapphire and citrine, the cloth covered with mirrors glinting in the light. Or how they link plump brown arms, frightened or delighted by the attention, huddled close, bird-like ch
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204152
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. . . at midnight three zombies and a vampire gather for a game of Texas hold ’em.
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2041179
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I have been mother
to a hundred soldiers,
holding their hands
barely knowing
their names
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2041366
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I do not trust Shay anymore.
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204181
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Ted did not understand turn-of-the-century costume dramas, and because he didn’t understand them, he often referred to them as "chick flicks" or "English crap." Even when the principals were not British. Even when the principals were Winona Ryder.
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2041185
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She scrambles the eggs while the baby howls at her knees. To drown out the racket, she hums as she jabs her fork into the yolks. She enjoys the way they spill their yellow color and swirl into the whites. She matches her tune to the schook, schook, schook of the…
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20403517
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She said this is our abode and it sounded like a warble and she made a sweeping gesture with her arm and the boy started to cry.
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2039118
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20391610
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Tents staked in desert land, a muted building of parched earth, in a thirty year old city with a napalm birth, they wait among gravestones in the sand.
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203951
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Do you want social justice! Do you want a good and fair world!
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20391110
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"I looked at this skinny, little female child, Meadow Simms. It wasn't only that she was small. Meadow Simms didn't look like other children. Her parents were hippies."
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2037115
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Where was she exactly? There is, of course, no answer to this question. But that didn't stop me from asking it. Constantly. Obsessively.
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203511
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203521
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It was said that in order to decrease population— and thus poverty, crime and the growing uneducated workforce in Etherage, New World— they needed to limit, if not abolish, the Social Reform Act of 2013 that provided government assistance and aid to famil
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20352621
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They didn’t run out of each other’s ink.
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203573
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Conversation becomes Electra, as do her eyes. Electra’s head is grey, like the head of my Frau Freud, Martha. Her intelligent irises are darkly pigmented, and her sclerae are edged with a dramatic, black line of the sort that Cleopatra affected. In ou
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20342915
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What I wanted was long-in-the-sheets sex...
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203473
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Christmas is here and there's work to do.
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20332920
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Keisha was the name she gave us. She said she had no father and no last name. We wrote her down as Keisha B. We already had a Keisha A. She was about twelve though she told us fourteen. Her eyes were older than we dared think. We knew her mother had been murdered and that's…
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20332720
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I peeled his tongue, word by contemptuous word, until he had nothing left but a scrappy shred of muscle flapping in his empty head...
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203254
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It's July, which, if you work in a public library, means that the Summer Reading Club is in full swing. The SRC used to be just for kids, to motivate them to read when school wasn't in session. But in recent years many libraries have expanded the program to include…
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2032107
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Now, these explosions announced, political bribes and propaganda weren't going to be enough to push things through. There would need to be survival from blunt force trauma and fear tactics, a relentless forward march
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20323724
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I ate a novel. I digested a film reel. I vomited poetry.
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203199
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I guess the ultimate, penultimate failure
would be to write a love poem that
turned on everybody but you.
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203142
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This is my motorcycle. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My motorcycle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me, my motorcycle
is useless. Without my motorcycle, I am useless.
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203101
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Gordon He pressed the side of his face to the pillow and waited for the sound of birds. The room was black, the window open; when a breeze came the curtains billowed out against a lighter sky. He heard the clock. He heard the dry sound of Helen breathing;…
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203021
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“We should go again,” said Krishna.
But Iqbal didn’t reply. He sipped his tea like he hadn’t heard, but a tremor passed through his right shoulder. His left arm was bandaged, and the wrist and lower arm were in a c
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203013
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I’m at the kitchen sink washing down pills when they bump up my driveway in a blue Toyota pick up, its bed eaten through with rust so bad I can see past the holes in the body to the frame.
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