Most read stories

castaway

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the epiphany at the mast at midnight is not the same at dawn

Flash Before Your Eyes

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It was the dead of winter. I took my father's shotgun from his closet. He kept it wrapped up in one of those khaki-colored gun tote bags that had a zipper running the whole length of the gun. It was a 16-gauge, single action shotgun. Anyone could tell wha

Our Last Night at the Nunnery Motel 2.0 in Milano

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They make you work For your pizza in Italy You have to slice it yourself While wearing a gas mask To ward off the cigarette smoke From every neighboring table While chasing away the Mosquitos and the pigeons The flies and the gypsy r

Five Million Yen: Chapter 48

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Ben was not a happy musician.

The Tribe of Women

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One can’t predict the final cadence of one’s life.

Do the Shogun Moon

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Heel to toe, our bunions are our ingrown medals.

The Judge's Wife Part 8

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—You're convinced I'm crazy. I'm convinced you're incompetent.

No Homo

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We were talking in the dark in my room. He lay on a mattress on the floor. He came for a sleepover.

Music That Tastes Like Blood

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It is your music that makes me want to crack open my ribcage and rip out my heart as it still beats, to cauterize my carotids, and shove the mechanical insides of a clock into my thoracic cavity.

Glass Rooster

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ghosts of the previous owners who leave a trail of whispers

Digging

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I came to a field where, scattered around, were quite a few men digging holes

Zombies In The Time of Nineteen Eighty-Four

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I was watching the bustling crowd below, sipping on a teacup full of Victory Gin when the scream, no a howl, cut through the murmuring of footsteps and telescreens.

Blood Quantum

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I play in the dirt with cattle bones while Mother rattles the sky. She tells me I have my fathers eyes. The words come through bloody fissures in her lips.

A Record of Wrongs

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A dead deer on the side of the road and the older boys not listening to her as they stab its eye with a stick.

A Paltry Thing

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I love Hooters. Best cheese steak in town in my opinion.

Ranger

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“What. Is. That?” Sid asked, staring at the shaggy ball of fur sitting in the living room. Its tongue hung out of its mouth and its tail beat against the carpet.“This is Ranger,” his mom said. “I don't know what breed he is, but he's a sweetie…

Changes Are

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When people drastically change everything about themselves repeatedly, don't they eventually just end up alienating everyone?

Tabula Rasa

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When I was younger, I tried very hard to be myself, but it never worked. I'd close my eyes, wait a beat, open them and slowly bring them into focus. This is the new me, the only me. Never worked, not once. It could only last a minute or two, so I…

Jane

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Jane knew what to do when she heard murmurs in the ceiling, knew what to do when she struck out on the moor.

Consider The Son

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Don’t forget, I’ve watched the evil you’ve done to the lawn for years, not to mention the chaos you’ve made of the woodshed. Don’t you remember me showing you how to properly stack the wood?

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.4 - c.2

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Azure took the paper and read it herself. She wondered about those four mysterious beings that communicated with her.

Transgressions

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Once you descend, the third rail/ hums its invitation

Event Particle (9)

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leaves, starlings and other words fall into thickets of orange or green grasses or tendrils or snakes

Reasons to Live (RtL) = right to left

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6. to register for the draft

A modicum of madness

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for the moment/ you think you know what you’re/ doing and do it.

Prelude to Pain

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Grayson Warren is living the American Dream: a 15-year career as a city cop, a great wife and two kids. And then one day his dream turns into a nightmare.

young salesman

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When I was young I bowed with such forgotten politeness, a young salesman, enchanting, in the silken trades. But I remembered the sun also when it was in Hades, which had forgotten to set, or to rise. Peace, also, dangled there by the neck. Such a pre

Urgencies

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...it was moving toward me from an oblique angle somewhere behind, steadily, relentlessly.

Word Burglar

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Oh my god - A plagiarizing pony - I know someone must have said that before

End of an Arabesque. Degas

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Holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped in a tissue in one hand, a round shape that balances the round yellow burst of light that is her dress. While the flesh of her chest bulges forward and she balances as though in a holding pattern in flight.