Most read stories

In the Parking Lot

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Maybe they considered themselves beyond redemption, or maybe they couldn't sit for that long.

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.

Journey

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Do you know this song, Julia? I happened upon it one evening and only just before meeting you, a month before meeting, a month before arriving?

The Noise

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I'm hearing a noise. I can't see it. It's hiding and seems to be coming from the other side of the creek. With boots on I slowly wade across. The water makes its light lapping sounds. Reaching the bank, I search for the noise. It must have a face, suntanned and warm, that I…

Sleeping Apes and Washing Dishes: What I Learned From Magazines This Week

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Eat blueberries every day and you'll live to be a 92 year old mogul. Really.

Haiku For Birthdays

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Stephanie and the Scientists

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The research facility is located at the bottom of a steep and jagged valley, far away from Heaven, and the anguished eye of The Almighty.

Stop

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The dead girl was his niece’s daughter. Only thirteen years old.

Desert Storm, an Infrared Dream/David Avidan

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Desert Storm, an Infrared Dream/Poem by the late David Avidan On January 17, 1991 I woke up at 02:45 from a neo-surreal dream with a slight not very serious feeling of suffocation a pre-asthma attack instantly stifled with the inhalation of Ventolin an

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.

The Other Side of the Wall

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I’m glad they put the wall up. When it gets a little humid around here, I can smell those damn people.

Maggie

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But she didn't. It would have been no historical anomaly if she had, by the way. She played with the world like it was a toy. Sometimes I wondered if I'd wake up in a box, a victim of live internment, and scream only to be humiliated later by her laughter

The Eyes of the Inmate

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The courts had scheduled the date long ago but the time, an hour always left to the warden, had yet to be decided.

Another Ending

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you tell a stranger's story...

A taste of competition

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We called him Mickey Habanero, because he could fill his mouth with the hottest food imaginable, the kind packed with the sort of heat that would melt the gums from the teeth of a novice, all without taking a drink of milk or anything else that would otherwise soothe the…

Jeans

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Jeans. You passed yours along to me with some helpful tips.

Upwards, Into the White Eye Rising (Parts IV - VI)

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IV. Upwards, into the white eye rising, There is will, to stay, yet stays no will to be. Come,…

riversong

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pulled the wool off my head found i was almost dead

And Father Makes Three

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His father whistles The Torreador's Song in the kitchen; Mirko smells bacon.

Going Back in Time: Song

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If we go back in time We are living in tents If we go back in time We are living in caves We are fighting over rivers We are fighting over fields Near the soft edges of slime If we go back in time Nothing would have us And we had t

The Inspector Pays a Visit

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I'm not generally a believer. But I do sense things. I see things.

James

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And I mean part of me wanted to let him eat me, I thought maybe I owed him my body because I couldn’t enter his mind and I really wanted to on some level but we both knew that him eating me would just make us both feel awful—him because he’d wake up

The Old Man and the Cigarette

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Flicking the cigarette into the river the man's face becomes soft, as if waving goodbye to the only real attachment that he has felt in decades.

The Budweiser Sign and the Ghosts of Saturday Night

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It waited and witnessed the seasons complete a grouping and form a year. Then it watched them do it again. Winter, spring, summer, fall. It watched from the inside of course. But it could see. Big sliding glass doors and long and wide windows stayed the course also, way…

Chief Seattle

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Neighbors trade novels through windows

Kiss Me Quick

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You, who reaches in, touches me in that moment of decision, and knows I’ll be everything you’ve looked forward to tonight.

Thanks, Target!

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A tanka poem inspired by the 40 million debit card numbers stolen from Target stores since Black Friday last month.

In Real Time

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We are the same shits/ we were in the Bronze Age

Dear Friend

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Dear Friend: As a visitor to Wonderland in the past, you are truly among our most treasured friends. It is the enthusiasm for whimsy such as yours that spurs us to continue to provide perplexing chaos for which we are so widely esteemed, the better to

An Essay on People who Behave in a Slimy Manner

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Once upon a slime there was an Edenlike place that existed in outerspace all by itself. It was lonely, this little rock in space