Most read stories

Hubris, Now Hollowed

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We laughed like lords and lunatics Our schematics stretched before us

The last sunny day. LUST

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I remember.

The Business of Shadows

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The flowerpots across the street from Frank’s room at the Place d’Armes Hotel never appeared parched by the late August sun.

Manet Nightmare

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the tall, thin ectomorph sat on the verdant, green grass as the unclothed naked woman on the Sunday-picnic blanket poured white cow’s milk into a vodka shot glass

Like Five O'Clock

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She pulled the book off its shelf. It meant something else now. He'd quote her in the mirror, at the backs of buses that kept her moving, something she'd said without saying. He would remember for them. She'd forget, without him, the way she wanted. Garland and lights were…

Duty

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Two girls, twelve years old, run down San Pedro Avenue past the market, the middle school, seven driveways, their small chests heaving. The smooth soles of their Mary Janes keep slipping on the gravel driveways. Two men in a rust-orange van bear…

Arcana Magi Memorial Vol.4 - c.1

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Ciel’s eyes trembled at how this all could have happened. With tears falling down her cheeks, all senses of hope disappeared.

My Heart goes Boom

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On his knees in front of the transplant board, he pleaded for his ailing heart, spluttering on its last dying beats, to be replaced with a bomb.

Christmas Presents

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There’s something Dad’s been telling us that I don’t think is true

architecture

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you look like the insides of my cheeks chewed.

JUST BECAUSE

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It's been almost two years since I bought it.

Gomalco, Inc.

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“You've got to be kidding me. A robot?”, said Marge as she rotated in the chair at her desk. She removed the leaf of paper from the typewriter and set in down on the desk. She looked up at Parkins who was leaning against the wall nursing a cold cup of…

The Condescending Skies of June

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I have become a prisoner of my own fractured mind/ A paranoid weirdo behind the horizontal bars of window shades

Post

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Beyond the parrots and the palms, she can see an airplane resting in the canyon below, belly up, wings like outstretched arms, the occupants inside presumably rotting in their seats.

Writing From Paintings (a meditation on the work of artist Michelle Manley)

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Since we are heading past the outskirts, we find ourselves with a hidden reserve of valor and ability. What is this ability? It is the way we look now at strange new clouds menacing and waiting. It is also the way we head forth into them and their environ

Year End Closeout: Buy One, Get Seven Free.

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It’s not that cold but the cold that is/ penetrates layered cloth and soft skin/ to chill the blood in its capillaries

Yes, A Dream

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...the completeness of pleasure tantamount to the end of all process...

You've Got that Wrong Kind of Brain

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He and Nick got a long very well, and would speak about things for hours until the morning came; and Betsy would supply them with food and coffee, and clever sayings all the while Johnny watched it all over. Tonight though, they had watched La Rafle, and

Arcana Magi Pure Vol.6 - c.2

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As Mrs. Saito put on the helmet, the copter got off the ground. She focused her Mana and placed her hand on the window, bracing for the birds arrival.

Wilderness

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We call this game the end of the world...

Breaking Bread at Al Qalzam

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My first time alone with the women in Saudi Arabia...

This Is Not A Ghost Story

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"Man, I'd love to do coke chopped up with the remains of this motherfucker," he said as the unicorn's head smacked against the screen of his netbook for the 12,364th time.

The Dolly Boys

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

Control

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I’m afraid

Wind Bag

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Last night I decided to go through my bag of wind and sort things out. I'm a hoarder, and wind is no exception. I collect winds. I found two siroccos, five simooms, three foehns, eight Chinooks, ninety gales, thirty zephyrs, two nor'westers, a monsoon, a…

Apprehensions in the Garden of Gethsemane

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The thumb, incarnate, knows/ the moment of the misplaced hammer blow;/ the tongue, incarnate, the cool invigoration/ of water drawn from the dark well.

Barnegat Bay

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I whispered, “I love you” and then, “Goodbye”

Laundromat Haiku

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Laundromat

The Fine Madness

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A phrase, a sentence, a stanza,/ sounds among the sums and lists/ and starts a scratched cascade/ of syllables and other approximations--

With Respect to a Fellow Poet

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We do not all love each other for the sake of our shared art, apparently.