Most read stories

Every Headache

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It’s possible that you’re dying. Every headache a brain tumor, your friend once said. You laughed then. Now you begin to see what he meant.

On Display

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Richard gets me started, tells me to undress the two women mannequins in the storefront window

The 6 Rules of Shoes

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4. If you wear size 13, you'll trip a lot.

(give me a real moment with a living god and I’ll go all the way)

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I remember, when I was selling real estate, how you could always tell when there'd been a divorce. One room was conspicuously left emptied of its contents, and these rooms were never swept or tidied. Instead they were left just as they were when the par

9/11 Memories

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She was just a small dog with a big heart.

Unintentional Hermits- Double Exposure

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The mother continued to stand, marooned in her isolation and Isis' hostility in between table and bed and under the overhead which cast a blue tinge, she held the newspaper- The Daily Mail- which embarrassed Isis- aloft and at an angle, one leg position

The Magic Trumpet

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I gave my trumpet case to a girl named Sophie; she liked the velvet inside.She still played with dolls;they would live there,in the dark away from the world.Safe. I was a terrible trumpeter;i missed the high notes in band, squawked like a chicken.I strapped the trumpeton my…

How the 60's Ended

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The Beatles on TV their last show together as a group and we all knew it smoking dope sitting around in large groups in living rooms across the universe they sang Let It Be and The Long and Winding Road knowing a man

said the fury to the shade

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let competitions in crime ensue let every madness bring let every sword be drawn let every furious rage flow free let anger know no shame let all blind rage inflame . . .

"Forever You Will Be Mine"

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“Forever you will be mine” she said to me, and of course I did not believe her. She was a romantic and so was I, and such words habitually dripped out of her lovely mouth like honey from the comb, in a never-ending flow of flattery which I am ashamed to s

Transgression

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I look as sympathetic as I can, under the circumstance, which is entirely unsympathetic.

Slivers from the edge

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Four ships anchor Far off shore Chains slip Beneath the swell.

Goodbye Uncle Jack

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He fought off the U-boat packs in the Atlantic — one hand on the tiller, one on the torpedo launch button.

Song: Nope, music by Tim Young, lyrics by Jerry Ratch

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paste into browser: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VsSKsjOTCFU&feature=em-upload_owner

My Alice

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My story begins where so many have ended, strapped fast to a cold table, just moments from a lobotomy needle and anything resembling the man that I am.

Hoping For Bones

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In the backyard with Joey, I make the mistake of answering him honestly when he asks what the gray brick in the dirt is for. “My parakeet is buried there,” I say. And he asks, “can we dig it up?”Joey's grandma lives down the street; he comes over…

My Wife's Dream

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He was a Jack Russell terrier hanging like a baby in a carrier strapped to my chest He had all four legs wrapped around me and was licking me with his long tongue I asked him what his name was, and in a real low voice he said Min

The memories lived in the house

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each act of creation is a jolt of expectation

Can't We All Be Writers?

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Why not just self-publish on Fictionaut and be read by thousands of my peers? Why not release my cherished work directly to my thousands of Facebook or Twitter or blog friends? Can the budding writer that I am realistically expect a larger audience?

The 83rd Meridian West

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The priest went into the place in those parts, the priest an old pear or grape gotten ripe and then moreso, but never actually expiring . He was hunched and it looked like he was broken at some integral part, but nobody could tell for sure where. One time, a bat…

2011

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This year, 2011, you bring about my thirtieth year. I'm apprehensive about this, but mainly because my father made me watch "Logan's Run" as a kid...

Rule of exchange

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She seizes my hand. I resist just enough to sense her strength.

Friday Out

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Seeing her in black / with his arm around her / from the other side / of a glass door. / He gave her a beer. / She might’ve been thirsty, / uncomfortable.

Random Little Linguistic Discharges

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Eat the Body/ Drink the Blood/ Perfect the sacrifice,

Heads or Tails

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The man next door came over with a pitchfork.

Santos

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Further down a small group of men lolled near a doorway.

As Faulkner's Birthday Nears, Mailmen Ask "What If?"

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Before he became famous Faulkner was postmaster at the University of Mississippi Substation Post Office, a fact that endears him to mailmen around the world.

The Fat Girl

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She never leaves her desk, but food appears like magic.

5 Poems In The Shape Of Other Poems

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the things we will accomplish, the things we will leave to others

Puppet X, 2

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It's important to sound human, I know To get fragile near your mother I myself get glimpses now and then