Most read stories

Go Running Up That Hill

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Better move ‘cause I hear them comin’ up the other side.

The Devil’s Troubadour

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The Devil’s laugh was the screech of wind. Ignacio Carillo heard Him as he dug the grave that would hold the body of his beloved wife.

The curtain

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In the evening the curtain recounts its day. Faces, images, incidents it has observed from the window. Its voice is nuanced, modulated, quivering, for it is made of lace. It appears to crochet its words with needle sounds. My eyes, during confinement, are not wide open, not…

Advice To A Young Poet

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Touch these words with your mind. They will create an elephant with an unidentifiable itch.

aromatic

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this bleeding sun, clove studded & seedless

Tea Time Story

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She smiled at him. "You want to know the secret, that's why you want her to tell - not because you want her to be happy."

Golden Dawn

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Rose would have preferred to survey the wreckage alone, between sips of her earl grey, but the morning light drew her attention to blonde and jet black curls weaving into folds of fabric.

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.

1

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Years ago when the smart of it was as nippy as this one.

The Writing Class

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I ask if anyone has a poem or a story they would like to read. Everybody's hand shoots up.

The Bricks

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He ordered a palace built, and the builders came to blows, which is why the father’s eyes have swollen shut, and the oldest son’s knuckles are bright plums.

The End.

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Liz lies in bed next to a stranger. He is snoring softly, and she turns her head toward him, looking at his eyelids flutter as he enters REM sleep. He stirs and rolls over on his side away from her. As he does so, he pulls part of the comforter with him, exposing her…

Steven 33

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Steven 33 started small, made it big then opted out. All the great pillars of the world’s economic construction do that. Steven 33 saw an opening, then sold the idea just before yesterday dawned. His first fortune grew from fear.

Lunar Hypnotism

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You sleep. The time is soft and slow. Your dreams are covered with the snow.

My Not Entirely Serious Predictions for Season Four of Sherlock

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The BBC's “Sherlock” is among the most popular shows on TV, and there has been much speculation among die-hard fans like myself about what the upcoming fourth season will hold. Having consulted my own crystal ball, here's what I see happening: Irene…

Getaway

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She’d picked him up at a party freshman year, calling him Danny. Until then he had always been Daniel. He’d said nothing and his name was changed.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 26

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Friday afternoon. Angelique Brody knocked Francesco’s studio door.

The Blueberry Man

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It was a Thursday. That's when I found out about the blueberries. Those precious, round little wonders, now forever untouchable.I left the note on the ledge of the balcony, taped down so it wouldn't fly away.It was going to come to this, eventually. After…

Learning to Live With Radical Presbyterians

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Proponents of this pragmatic line of thinking say a tolerant approach to Islam will succeed where force has failed to persuade terrorists to abandon the religious fanaticism. It's certainly worth a try--it worked with Presbyterians.

Fragment from an Unwritten Diary

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It's not stories the quiet lack, but inclination...

Mothers

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No, no mother’s tenderness: she shows no sign of that … Do you know that she has them make their own bed? No, not the girl: the boys too! Yes, the boys. She humiliates them.

The Vessel

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For so long as I think I shall live.

Frozen Out

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It's a funny thing, watching a Snowman shiver

My Gall Bladder is Really Warm Today

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The English phrase "Nice to see you" translates into "My gall bladder is really warm today" in Berik, a language of New Guinea. What Language Is, John McWhorter

Of Roses and Hyacinths

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The blooms are practical/ and cannot see themselves

Playing for Keeps

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I woke like an animal / breeding thoughts like flies

The Form of a Cyclist

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His legs were pedaling hard and his heart was beating fast, He's got his scars; He can't outrun his past, Down the hill he goes, wind whipped his hair, a new style with each draft. He broke his brakes long ago; He cut the cable and ripped off the pads. He cried…

Trot fast, my dapple gray!

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It was night. It was Massachusetts. It was an interview in a snowstorm that Detective Vivian Diaz wished would go away.

Cairn

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Your cairns/ are litter in the streets

Yellow Cabaret

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Hail the yellow cab the yellow one will do just fine as second condiment to the sun