Most read stories

Ghoster

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Ross, I've been a ghost hunter for almost 10 years now and this is a place I said I WOULD NEVER NEVER EVER go to!

Mauthausen

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I was feeling a bit introspective. I was busy in my own mind assembling the history of the place and getting ready for the visit. I was naturally not someone who would cluster up with a bunch of people I had just met and had arrived to participate in this

Low Dose Yoga

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Names are forbidden here. So is apology.

Leaping Through Flames

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I should have never gotten involved in such a huge lie. I was a poet, for God's sake, not a novelist. I wasn't used to lying.

The Cherry

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He then spent his walk home to his single apartment spitting up various textures of red, combinations of cherry and blood mostly.

Cube of Boxes

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...he was suddenly and hazily relieved that he had something in Persepolis and blue agave plants to talk to her about.

Rope & Bone '86

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His shirts he hangs on the back of the chair, one on top the other so they won't wrinkle.

Examination of Faith (And the Big Bang)

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The marble, it's just there. I can't explain how it got there (or when), all I know is that everything is in that marble. By "everything," I mean every thing. Your breakfast? It's there.

The Dead

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The dead want you to calm down.They are quite fine, and don't needyour post-mortem tears, the flowers and veils; their names mispronounced by preachers. None of your catechisms will do -- especiallyfor the children, who know them well and need no…

Bubble Rap Blues

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"The Chinese don't have no Mardy Grah, bitch."

Twelve Pens

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Their last story

Betrayal

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My brother Herb married his high school sweetheart right after completing college. This was a girl named Beryl, whom he'd met originally in Mr. Reinert's marching band at York High School in Elmhurst. I remember one day in particular in the middle of the

February 2012 Denver, COLORADO

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"You don't need the gun," Dean said. "Bring me a bottle of peroxide and some duct tape."

Caliban's Dream

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Today I’m feeling crabby and haggard and technology makes it easy to get to the point.

More Of My Dark Job History

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In my 14 to 15 year old life in the late 50s I worked as a clean-up boy in the neighborhood butcher shop up on 5th. Ave.,

Aftermath

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Oh sweet, sweet morning light

Packing

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I left Iowa in august when the air was thick and sticky. I had been there three years minus a few days when the boy I'd been sleeping with packed almost everything I owned into my car and waved goodbye. In Baltimore I had few friends and a job teaching English at a…

How We Fight

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HORDES OF MEN desolated, struck down, destroyed, sunken form of skin and skeleton, bare cloth matted to torso, bodycage and hipbone, face and neck darkened, bloating to black, rain the endless dream stuck fast in the stone-dead skull and blood a fine sheen over all,…

Horowitch and Twaddle

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"...does the nurse, doctor or veterinarian experience greater sexual satisfaction than say the housewife in DesMoines or the sixth grade English teacher in Passaic?"

Getting Away

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Daddy says he needs to go to the movies at night to relieve his stress, so Momma wakes us up, puts coats over our pajamas, leads us to the car ...

Glass Rooster

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ghosts of the previous owners who leave a trail of whispers

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.

Veined and Green

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Where we’ve penned heart shaped question marks, seeds sprouting bowed heads, a congregation of confused supplicants.

Grannies

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The four Grannies say, “GO!” and leap from the window. King's pickup is below, and he has lined the bed with his mother's throw pillows. Sundresses fly. Blue plastic diapers billow. They want cigarettes. I light their smokes with King's pearl-handled lighter as…

From "One of: A Family Miscellany"

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" History ...is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake."

Five Million Yen: Chapter 74: Coda

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It was the first warm day of a late-arriving spring. Ben was sitting in his divorce lawyer’s office on Maiden Lane in lower Manhattan.

Apathy.

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I'm not sure whetherI drink to numbthe pain or toactually feelsomething.

Freedom

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She tossed the big bird into the air. It wobbled, then flew away.

reality concedes, for once

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beckoning with citrus streaks blue cobbled streets/and stuccos lit with gold lamps guide strollers here/to Place du Forum in Arles and this café . . .

sabotage

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people keep trying to get me/ "out of the house"./ they see fun in me, and cool in me,/ and want to spend time with me,/ and i am flattered most sincerely./