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Behold the New Day That Allows the Rabbit Hole to Disappear

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For hours and hours she swirled, and swirled some more. She was trying to be there for everyone, yet no one realized how much pain they were causing her. Some of them had thrown invisible darts of anger all day, and she had endured each one, because she c

The patient

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He switched off the light. His wife was breathing softly. At her bedside he told her of her friends the roses, of the pretty carnation brooch he had pinned on her silk scarf, of her coquettish hat which fitted her so well. Small, simple and bright memories the heavy night…

Stinger: a Novel

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Lipstick on the bolt, she told herself, if it's no good in the slot anymore.

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.

Old Eyes

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I passed the old man from upstairs now and then, usually on Saturdays.

and I used to sing, too, after sex

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Females exuding from the genitals, giving life meaning, shape, cleanness of line, purity of spirit. They may form man as the honey moans out its salt song, solitary, its epic shout of joy, the sweet science of the human form. Then to give back in re

Preacher Alphonse Jicklo

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Samson was also somewhat in hopes that his son Jason would become engaged in this minor capitalist enterprise and 'turned around' in his life.

All you need is a friend

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So, before he could brew with the crew, God decided to make one last trip to Earth, drawn by nostalgia and the prospect of watching a football World Cup from the stands. That is where He met Mini.

The Semaphore of Civilization

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We're alone and besieged / by badness.

Chapel of a Latter Day Agoraphobic

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The thrum and the thrust// have beaten conviviality out of me.

The Truth about the Law

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I hear the undying screams of the children outside.

Her Smile

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The white and yellow are sublime and desperately powerful, like angry screaming over tears and through laughter or hatred. Maybe the words are about crying or laughing, but the expressions are altogether impenetrable and distant. The jokes told behind the teeth and through…

Forevergrad

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The man was sitting at his makeshift kitchen table. He was forty-five years old. He wore his mortarboard with tassel whenever he left his home. Once inside either a reputable establishment or one generally considered less so, he was sure to take off his m

Saved (Seven-Fingered Jesus)

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Believe me, I would run if I could, but there seems to be a low haze of molasses clinging to my ankles.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 53

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I am beleaguered by duplicity.

backwash

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today

Weeks

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She was wearing a black tank top and jeans, standing in the shade. Why was she there again? The camera hanging around her wrist answered her question. Right, he had called. He had asked if she could take picture for him and his…

DOMA Do-Do

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His smartphone rang. A picture came up of him kissing the blonde.

Move and Pause

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On a Saturday I flew from murky air. My wings grown weak, I stole away from plundered nest, casual stings, and skillful barbs. In family's fold, I perch.

A Rare Meteor Shower

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Now, as we sat on lawn chairs / on the balcony to watch the meteor shower

Elegy for the Sun

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When winter comes again…

The Martyr

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She sees her mother the Sunday after Zoe discovered her seven-week-old creation, like a chewed gingerbread man with red icing, in the toilet bowl beneath her.

Worst. Party. Ever.

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"The food tastes kind of...off."

1. The Knife (or, Ignorance is Bliss)

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He showed me the knife, said it was his best friend. This knife is older than you, he said. Here, run your finger along its blade. Like this. He showed me how to do it.

Obtaining Sophia

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My accordion's name is Sophia and she is from Italy. She was born in fairytale fashion, the way my life in Madrid can sometimes be. A great and nurturing friend gathered money from many friends in our village, to buy me an accordion for my birthday. It was…

Five Million Yen: Chapter 66

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Jack Krackenthorpe, Director-General of MI-5, sat alone drinking tea in Lee Ho Fook, a third-rate Chinese restaurant in Soho a mile from his Curzon Street office.

The Poet's Mark

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Often I want to kiss their lips Drink in every word they have written

Snowdrop

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Spring show its populist face, Flies in the house, missionaries at the door...

Typing Right On Fictionaut, Take 1

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We went driving on Sundays.

Like There Was No Tomorrow

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And there on the street Were a bunch of frantic pigeons Picking over some discarded Chicken bones I mean they were really Going to town on them You know, frantic Like there was no tomorrow And then I saw it A real sign of progress