Most read stories

First Lives

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There are some, I am told, who never see the dead, though I am as yet unable to believe it.

The Chihuahua Cure

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It came from the animal shelter, seizing and shivering, with eyes almost bigger than its head. Eyes that followed Pearl like it couldn’t stuff the whole picture of her in its tiny skull.

Europe

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On the way over, on the ship, I met a girl from Cleveland.

The Infinite Monkey Theorem

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Yahweh’s a betting deity, as bad as Lucifer at times. If you don’t believe me, look at the duck-billed platypus. Yahweh lost that time. So did the duck, but that’s another story.

Putting the Fun in Funeral

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The funeral was a blast. One helluva time. We all had the time of our lives. Well, all of us except Dominic. It pissed me off that Dominic didn’t have fun. After all, he was the center of attention. The whole day was about him, and we spared no expense

Circularity (Act 1)

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Ian Markham stood before the massive triangular window of Circularity's pyramidal office building. Its Technicolor hologram, a coup in advertising sloganeering, urgently flashed the company's ubiquitous tagline—IT'S NOT JUST AN ADVENTURE. IT'S A SECOND CHANCE! …

THE LIFE-GIVING DROP by Ivan Turgenev

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The child began to think only of the reason for being there in the cave, summoned up patience and continued to wait...

Rattlesnake Pancakes

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I don't usually take bets, / but I took this one.

The Star of David

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Everybody in Amsterdam spoke English, and unlike the French, they didn't pretend that they didn't.

Man On A Balcony In His Bathrobe

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Watering his pansies in their pots with his ridiculous watering can. Sticking his finger in the soil to test the dampness. Obviously nothing on beneath the silk robe. It’s almost fallen loose a dozen times Balding. Maybe in his late forties. S

Bird In the House

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"Because of the way our society is structured, a lot of people have to climb hard to get to anywhere reasonable in their lives, losing fingernails and a sense of dignity on the way up."

Sympathy

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“Are you afraid?” he asked. “No,” she said. “I’m thrilled.” “Thrilled?” “Yes, I’m thrilled that something is happening to me. It’s been such a long time since anything has happened. I was getting really bored, but this is great.

Barns And Ignobles

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None of us in the barn knew what to do about the lowing cows. Their slowly rising complaint started off as a half-hearted protest but soon gained in volume and unsettling portent.

Sands In Time by Julie Noble

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Sands In Time by Julie Noble As surreptitious as the crab creeping sideways under your patient observation, the sun has inched its way round the sky, echoing exactly the rugged curve of the Bay, and is now preparing itself for the evening slide. In its rich,…

Keisha

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Keisha was the name she gave us. She said she had no father and no last name. We wrote her down as Keisha B. We already had a Keisha A. She was about twelve though she told us fourteen. Her eyes were older than we dared think. We knew her mother had been murdered and that's…

Watching Our Reflections on TV While We Wait

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We sat in a row on the long couch and no one's legs could reach the floor. Granddaddy took the first one the kid who no one knew and said to us "the rest of you stay put."

Gardening

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Something about the Garden of Eden. That it isn't really a garden, and I'm not even sure what Eden means.

Texas hold ’em

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. . . at midnight three zombies and a vampire gather for a game of Texas hold ’em.

Going Bananas

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I haven’t made the headlines yet. Maybe I never will. In a city like this, it probably takes more than this to get the helicopters in the air.

Two of a Kind

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What was it about women that made them know these kinds of things about one another, about people, the way they came together, the future? Crater thought back to Dresden, the exchange student from Holland. She knew things like that.

From The Island Of Final Regrets

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A friend of mine recently died and went to Heaven, or so I innocently thought. It was only when I received a letter a month later postmarked “The Island of Final Regrets” that I realized he was still in transit.

Milk For Free

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The last time she wore fur-lined gloves...

public apology (or, why most people hate monks)

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I want separate twilight a room with no candles, plates, phones or music a glass ceiling to smash when my head's full I want tiny hand-

Obsidian

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Listen to me, at the end of all things, and I will tell you her story.

Automatic Typewriter

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Rowan’s arm burned and throbbed like the center of a neutron star as it went critical for minutes turned inside-out like hours. Standing in a wall, then huddled underneath the couch, she danced around the rim of consciousness, ripping at the seams of her

MAIZE

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Now, these explosions announced, political bribes and propaganda weren't going to be enough to push things through. There would need to be survival from blunt force trauma and fear tactics, a relentless forward march

A Felinist Critique of Macbeth

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Lady Macbeth goes around moaning “out, out damned spot,” when a well-placed lick would have solved the problem immediately, with no unnecessary and heavy-handed dialogue. Once again, clumsy work.

A Boy

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You said it was easier when you were ten and could play Risk with a girl and it was a game, not foreplay.

Baby Carrot

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In my choppings, I come across a tiny carrot amidst the baby carrots. The runt if you will.

Shiny

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I'm slim, baby, caramelized as a Slo-Poke buried in the fatty acids of some old dog's guts. The way they creep, frantic with finesse, free, locking their eyes in the dental mirror. It's wrong, maybe, but who'd dare to declaw them? Look at it from their angle, the one that…