Most read stories

The Good Son

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They’ve deduced she’s still of sound mind and body. What do they know?

The Zone of Forgotten Things

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In the zone of forgotten things, everything moves through a weak gravitational field

My Daughter On Wolf Hill Farm

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I survived as a brave thought,

Memoir 2.0

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His friend Boner, who was more accurately a friend of Milo, who was a friend of his cousin in Dubai and who had, up until this post, seemed to share thoughts in common with him, posted, “Holy Shit, Dude! What’re You On?”

20. Smitten

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Your tunamelt cadence / Sank me to ocean floors

The Dolly Boys

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I have a fascination with Dickens and London and this was inspired by my next novel.

Painted

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By the time she reached home, dinner would be there in thirty minutes, on the table. Not a lively table, just politeness, and calm. There were no issues of the day that needed discussing, no problems to be solved.

Tariff Happy

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Expose those for whom freedom is greed.

Retinue

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the view is breathtaking here.

A Girl You Couldn't Hurt

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He started to concentrate on the music again. It was the album with the crazy picture of Monk on the cover, with a machine gun over his shoulder, a tied-up Gestapo officer and a female resistance fighter standing next to—a cow.

Hold on

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I slept and it was pleasant. Then there was the kiss, and it was hot. Later you turned away, and all was November chill. Now there are touches, caresses and shouts, Marvelous nights flavored with favors bestowed, and blackened days,…

A Flat Sheet and One Standard Pillowcase

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this is your hair, this is your stare, this is your voice

The Madness of Mass Dance

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Outbreaks of mass communal dancing—sometimes referred to as “choreomania”—occurred in Europe with some frequency in Europe between the 14th and the 18th centuries.

Tidbit

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By dawn, she is ready to hunt.

Citronella Socks

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a cat named email..

The Little Apartment

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In the end they talked a lot, shared what they could, both seemingly trying to rekindle something that was no longer hot, and yet they could not let go of each other. Year after year would prove that. Right then, just then, it seemed that the physical par

the genes of Edouard Manet

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was entering into a new phase of its existence, a peculiar paradigm of the wider world where, presaged by science, economic and political ideologies were conspiring to displace the old verities of religion and aesthetics, but where…

Poem before Video Store

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Last night was full of little fists

exile on and off the road

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had I gotten home without knowing it? well . . .

Cat crunch

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I barely scraped the sleep out of my eyes when I heard the shrill crying from outside the kitchen window, and I recalled one of the many reasons cats can't be trusted. You see, they're evolutionarily wired to imitate the sound of a crying human baby, so when they…

TWEET for H #MELVILLE & W #FAULKNER (a poem)

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#ShortStory #writers are failed #poets...

Unintentional Hermits/ Animal Cities- The Helper

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So this was how it started. The next day Kia returned to sit with him a bit and the next day and the day after that until the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months. Eventually she found out his name was Saul, that he had no 'proper' job, was o

Shovels and Honeysuckles

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When she would leave my pillows still smelled like her. I would just inhale her for hours afterwards, sex and honeysuckles.

That Magical Hour

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Every night she waited for that magical hour when her breath was quick and her heart was loud rushing in her ears 8:04 or sometime 8:20 either way she knew the voice she would hear of her beloved was coming any minute now and so she was…

Mutual Respect

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Then, relieved to have cleared the air, they peacefully returned their way of living.

Geisha Doll

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I imagined cool, wet clay oozing between my fingers when I'd squeeze a tight fistful.

Downbound A

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Fall came early that year. The edge in the air wasn't just the cold, raw wind cutting down the street — the unity and collective embrace briefly shared after September 11th had faded. The weight from…

Born Lucky

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He's gonna find he wasn't born lucky after all, his propaganda has got up on the wrong side of the bed and sidled onto the couch.

Our Last Tea Party

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It’s the Tea, stupid. Drink up.

Message

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When the telephone rang the fallow fields we lay in years ago became distant countries, filled with falling stars. The distant country into which you had disappeared became a pistol with a single bullet in the chamber.