Most read stories

Riverside

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Talking to Shakespeare by the riverside, I am saddened by my lust for women, how my eyes fixate on the spit that passes from top to bottom lip as they talk to me.

Star Crossed Anglers

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“Got a big one boy! He's movin' real fast! Don't think he has had time to eat the bait just yet, so we need to play him out. Let the hook set. Don't want to loose him! Get the net ready!”

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?

Coffee and Cream F**k the Shit out of Me

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Of course they (the cof­fee and cream) were lovers, chem­i­cally made for one another, warmly explor­ing their part­ner's par­ti­cles with the pas­sion of a first kiss.

the first time I met Terry

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I remember the first time I met the virgin, Terry (not Mary.) She was in the back seat of an old Plymouth convertible with its top down, jam-packed with raucous high school girls vying to see which one of them could be the most loud and obnoxious, and w

Je Suis Vincent

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I saw Vincent one day, sitting at a café table that was situated right next to the quays of the Seine, with another artist by the name of Bernard. Vincent had his back to me, and he was leaning forward in his usual hyper-excitement, gesturing wildly

Phyllis Shapely

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In December of 2003, Daniel Arredondo succumbed to his years long battle with colon cancer. If the name is unfamiliar, you're not alone. He did not answer to the name Daniel Arredondo. For most of his life, from seventeen years old to the end, in fact, he went by the name…

The Sound Invisible

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“Behold!” cried the Lord, on a late September morning,

Mankind vs. The Undertaker

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Her boyfriend is into U.S. presidents and professional wrestling. He is reading biographies of both occupations and says this helps him to appreciate gray area, decisive action. Lives of great men, he explains.

Window

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Seen from the window, …

Sphynx Clara

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A brick from the parapet splat down later as I was applying a bitter healing powder, made from the seeds of watermelons, to my raw tongue.

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.

The Officer Gets Breakfast

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The officer’s eggs and bacon rested on the asphalt amid shattered ceramic and boot heels.

Pain

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My pain is a black pearl hidden in a clean shell.

How to Get Fans For Your Band (or book, start-up, app, whatever)

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You’re finally in a band that can get through a rehearsal without someone strangling someone with an amp cord over creative differences. No one’s in jail, rehab, or MIA from a multi-day booze binge. The group has laid down a few quality tracks that don’t

Grandma's Fingers

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her hands twined up, as carved from stone, each to fit the other.

The Ritz

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After oh so many hours the eyes could only close only to view a Ritz cracker marching on a nose

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 43

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—Have you ever fired a gun?

Annals of the Naked Rowdies #3

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It was a dire and dun-colored year when groupies wept and autograph seekers put down their pens.

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

The Voice of My Body

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It's saying, "It feels as if you've given me your old, your tired and your poor. I feel much older than the years you've logged."

Arcana Magi Pure Vol.5 - c.2

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Emi paced back and forth, fixing her jacket out of nervousness. The cool breeze crawled around her skin and she shivered.

Alyssa

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Before the paint spikes Coney Island to the wind, I walk home through the strum of a shield, colder than the one he left behind. For the hour I sprawl along the sidewalk in her laugh, crater's shadows for Wonder Wheel, he is midnight sun in The Last Waltz. Where the glow…

Hoss Men (divided)

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Agents I have little idea. Woiwode partly supported his family in the 60s by publishing in The NYer (his friends were De Niro and Barthelme) so perhaps there was little trouble in his finding one. E.W. met his at a bar. He publishes in Paris and Texas.

On Unpredictability

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All that have changed in me, I give to you now.

Another Metamorphosis: A Moral Tale about Obsession

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Billy liked dinosaurs. He played dinosaurs, collected dinosaur toys, drew pictures of dinosaurs, great shambling beasts of tooth and claw, whose passing shook the jungles and whose drooling jaws devoured figures not unlike his sisters. For birthdays and

Fargo

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“What does it feel like to run, Thomas?” I yelled across the field. Thomas was so fast. I would never catch up to him. Even if I could run. He was so fast. …

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?

Genesters

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There once was a lake skipping stone and it skipped, five times, the end... Ceiling fluorescents brilliant in the white space opened to the exterior of the Hog n' Bluster hero shop through the narrow glass front and shown out to the empty brick paved commons of…

Struggling with Hegel's Phenomenology of Spirit

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No one takes me seriously because I am an idiot.