Most read stories

Behind the Ear

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She grew tired of waiting for her husband to give her a flower so she picked one for herself.

conversations with the psychic

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She told me in all my past lives I’ve always been a woman, and I was stuck in this relationship and you weren’t coming back, so I should just move on and get over it. I was a little sad, but yeah, I knew I was going to go back to her one more time, just

Passings

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Perhaps my grandparents, Fred and Lela, when they were growing up....

Stars and Smiles

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Older than a star I am

Famine

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To be perfectly honest, I was lousy at my job. Or at least most aspects of it. The typing wasn’t a problem: I can get up to a hundred words a minute on a good stretch of unbroken text, and I’m pretty accurate. I even edited as I went, fixing passiv

Prologue - On the Lips of Children

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Their tongues were dry, her milk was gone, and the last bit of water in the plastic jug had evaporated.

The Kill

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I kill because I can’t stop. I kill because I can.

concession to the shapes of hunger

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(no one need fear timidity in our tastes― / we like trying new things, no matter our hastes!)

Aluminum Canoe

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"Don't stab me with that," says John.

Broken Night

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Could I really seduce and rob a total stranger -- just on a dare?

The Face of the Moon, And Another Story

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For example, I never noticed that the moon had eyelashes, not until tonight. You said you couldn’t really see that, not at all. You preferred the fact that the word “lunatic” sounded like an attic on the moon...

Physics 101

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The cellar smelled like an aroused muskrat.

The Ache of Logic

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There is a the reason for the theft of people and the melting of gold

Getting By

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The were two things and two things only in the town of Comfort, Alabama, that were older than Bella.

Here Comes the Sun/ There Goes the Moon

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still have the yellow rose that I did not throw into the grave.

50 Minute Fight

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Snap! Dylan’s arms flung forward as the rod bent toward the ocean. “Holy God! What did I snag?

The Blush of Rose

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Rose was the easiest lay in the Fletcher Memorial Home For The Aged.

candy crush

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1. we got off at the same stop. you approached me as i walked towards the stairs. i saw you looking at me, you said. i wasn't. i was looking at your magazine's cover. i don't remember what i said. i wanted to explore how to exist as myself however i wanted. i wanted to get…

Lockdown

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That son of a bitch locked me in the house again. Come over and knock in a window. One of them by the roses; he won’t see. Be a dear.

Looking Back On the Night That the Easy Went Under

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Where were you the night Katrina destroyed New Orleans? Oh, what a night... A week later, most of the city was still underwater, with hundreds or thousands of folks presumed dead, and tens of thousands…

Because we cannot know

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Because we cannot know, we keep walking, keep getting up each morning, feeding the cat, drinking coffee. Because we cannot know I'm drinking coffee that morning in Thailand, not on the beach but just off, because there is only one spot where you can get real coffee,…

The road is nothing but a blind beggar banging a tin cup against the sun's piled up with snow front door

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alright, alright but not so much of a friendly little cigar-chomping companion-like a friendly ghost! That sweeping hair of longed for sleeping only awaits you once you've drowned too …

Afterglow

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The drone of radio seeps into the car’s back seat… I hear only bits and pieces of information –

Quatrains Written on Stolen Time

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It is the fragrance of decay/ as paint, polymers and dyes/ outgas molecules of themselves

Lime Grove in the Snow

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Up ahead I saw clusters of people standing silently under the trees. They seemed to be just waiting there. More than 100 people lined up in the cold and dark, not moving.

Babbling

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She’s gotten more involved in the game with menopause.

The After-Sex Song

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After sex he would get on his old refurbished upright piano and always play that same song. We came to know it as the After-Sex Song. It was really quite lovely, and touching. I think it made us all feel better around that building. Yeah, I remember t

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 43

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—Have you ever fired a gun?

Four: Of Moths, Poets, and Streambanks

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“And what kind of man would prefer all these dusty old books to my physical form? Who would memorize archaic incantations, when he could be whispering in my ear? Why search for the ancient splendors of metaphor, when one could be searching for the ...

i'll give you a large sum of money for finding my kite. thanks.

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sometimes we saw it in the sky. we'd stand on invisible stairs trying to reach it. running like frightened geese. we were going to catch up with it. grab onto its string. pull it down.