Most read stories

Measures

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Pascal would let something slip now and then. He was sharp and spoke excellent English, with a beautiful Spanish accent. He corrected speech among the guys, but he exercised his lessons in grammar with an eloquence that fascinated all of us, not letting a

Duck for Dinner

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My friend and I were once walking the aisles of a supermarket because we decided we were going to have roasted duck. We didn’t know how to cook, but as the old Filipino reds used to say: If not now, when? If we don’t learn how to cook now, as in NOW, then

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 16

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Depression had Frank in its craw.

The Funeral

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There aren’t requirements, only expectations. I’m writing this, because, at the time it happened it seemed strange to me. People might think I’m writing because now, it makes sense, right? It doesn’t, I’ll tell you that much. I’ll also tell you what i

In A Lightning Storm, Sheep Run Through Barbed Wire

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I used to fear things. The lonesome wind come through the clapboards. Dry hillsides rustling. My own skin in the summer heat. Rattlers. Lurking. Abandoned coal pits. Pa said I was afraid of desolation. I didn't know what he meant by that. How can you be…

Close/Far

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If you were glassI'd fog you up With my breathI'd leave messagesPictographsIn fingerprints I'd press in closeSo would youAnd so we'd danceBut you are glassAn inch of depthTo catch my breath

Read My Lips, or Simply Refer to the Subtitles

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A friend has been shopping an opera around without success. It's about Arthur Inman, a hypochondriac who hired people to talk to and, in some cases, have sex with him.

The Sapaat Swarm

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About three dozen people, the doctor told him, dwelt in the small village until there had been a dry spell—a drought the likes of which no one in the region had ever seen before. Theories abounded as to the cause of the drought as theories do: a curse by

Cardiovascular

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circumstances// squeeze the heart so hard/ that you should die but don’t.

Father Dunne's School for Wayward Boys #6

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Instead, we found his red-inked list of boys who would never be saved,

To The Little Mouse Who Started Feeling Slightly Nauseous

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I heard them praying to some god none of us had ever heard of. I'm glad I went to the funeral and still have the yellow rose that I did not throw into his grave. At some point you have to stop nibbling from the moldy cake.

Probably for the Best

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“Kids okay?” I didn’t mean anything by it–it would have been innocent small talk any other time–but he took up the suggestion.

Park

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“It’s time we moved our relationship back into an upright position,” I said.

Chapter 1

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“The King,” he paused, pursed his lips, looked across the crowd of eager and fearful citizens of Ki, “is dead!”

Path

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a man sees salamander bands / a-cracklin on the scree

This is the Day

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"...she became aware of her cold saliva dripping slowly over her bare arm muscle,..."

Les Cahiers du Kung Fu Pimping Cinema

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We at Cahiers must continually ask–is le cinema de kung fu pimping really, truly—as bad as it wanna be?

Hot Rod Heaven

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"a ratty, red, medium-sized bicycle for sale in a ratty, medium-sized yard."

Paulie in Albuquerque

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Savvy as a nine-year-old playing poker with high rollers in Las Vegas, that was Paulie. She'd finally thrown Dick Weasel out the night before, but that morning Diana'd shot down their plan of sharing the house in a “man-free”…

Ordinary Fruit

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I was insufficiently abused as a child.

The Story

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He pronounced the Afrikaans word with the vowel sound like the vowel in dour. It meant box, but it also meant cunt.

Kittens and the Hands of God

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As the breeze slowly died, another breeze brought her back up, one breeze after another like the hands of God carrying her through the sky.

"A Wedding Feast" (a lost parable of Jesus)

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There was much joy in Galilee, for it was not often that two marriages, not merely one, were celebrated in one ceremony.

The Duplicate

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For weeks they used every medium to say: This day will be an end or a beginning.

Flickers

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Saturday at Portobello market. Wind whittles leaves from the trees; casts shop signs into windows, turning glass to shimmering fishscale.

If. You. Speak.

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The one at dusk is not the one you met this morning. That one's gone like a head in the window.

Questions of the Tenth Month

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my loosening grip on time.

Bus Ride Through SF

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Bud Light, B. O. and Freeloader Heaven, they step onto the back of the bus without a cent We pass by the Karma Wash but no one gets off the bus We pass by the Endless Soup and Salad Kitchen where we witness a crowd swarming over a ch

Head Over Feet.

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And if I lived a thousand lives...

Pancakes

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I’d look for a fork and quickly stab a piece of it and bite into it, feeling good about the finality of things.