Most read stories

The City

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“A story shines brighter through a tear in your eye,” You say

Spiders on the Wall

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Her eyes creaked open in the misty morning sun seeping through my dusty window. From her facial expression, I could tell she thought I was watching her sleep, but really I had just woken up and coincidentally looked over at the exact moment she did. I decided against …

April

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Well, hello hunger: what a sweet surprise.

Closest Living Relative

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Uncles. Cousins. Enos. No matter how loosely a net is woven, eventually the strands come together again.

War Bride

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Maria met her husband in World War Two. Maria is now eighty-two. She is from the country of Tuscany. She has lived in may countries. She was a war bride. She has a son. Maria's son is sixty-three. As a baby-boomer he won't retire until sixty-five Maria says.…

Moai

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Rain and wind and the pecking of birds

Five Million Yen: Chapter 33

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This will take forever. I’ll never get to Antibes to meet Isabella, much less make it to Marseille to deliver the picture and then catch the overnight train to Paris. I may have to call Jean-Claude Lyon, the orchestra manager of the Monte Carlo orchestra,

The Murder of Crows

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The one-legged crow was back in the yard again. It was there yesterday and maybe before, but yesterday was the first time I noticed it. I've been using my binoculars lately. It is interesting to me...to bring things closer. And it's not just birds, but other things like the…

Carlos Del Monte’s Verse Chorus Verse

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Too young to stay interested for long in the words I was reading. My father said the man was very intelligent and most of his writing was hard to understand.

Five

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"It all began with a painting," I said. "Mostly blue. Acrylic. Naturalistic in a modern sense. She was stylized but recognizable, and her breasts were exposed. Everyone could see her disordered skirt. The painter was a fan of Herrick.

Avec le Corps de Ballet du Boston Celtiques

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A thing of beauty is a joy forever. Also a thing with bodacious knockers.

Snowdrop

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

Saint Basil's

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The last of the Kazan Tatar Khans. Each dome represents a severed head.

Why Go Outside?

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Why go outside where the gutters / are fraudulent and clogged with popularity?

Destiny

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With a madman’s laugh, she realized her mistake and discarded it as irrelevant.

Pantheon

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gods aren’t going to help you son

The Babies

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We jam into the green tent as it begins to rain. His casket is covered with flowers and there is the picture you took of him, the day you climbed the fire tower from where you could see forever, past his smiling face the bars and a million changing leaves.His pregnant girl…

Hush

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You think you are a perpetual motion machine, free of thermodynamic law. I’m telling you, you’re wrong.

We are the miserable

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We are the miserable, annoyed, dismayed sick. We slouch on black naugahyde chairs too pathetic to reach for magazines. The computer is down the young receptionist has explained to each of us in young, florid style, complete with “I…

moon/light

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the cue & flash

Ten Beginnings of Stories about Grizzly Bears

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1. The Grizzlies met with the other forest animals for a meeting about voting rights. I was there too, you know, to prevent chaos or something. 2. Mom didn't like it when I took in a …

gathering

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the moon tops the monolith

Coalheart

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He is sleek with hearts and I see a different name etched onto each one.

Oed is Dead

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I COULD always sleep. Go "home" now and sleep. My body and my fetus—who complain of this torture—would appreciate sleep. I have something to do that is not sleep. I have something to do that is not sleep. I have to try to wake.

running, returning

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The broken car horn wailed for 40 days and 40 nights.

Social Medicine

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Her Facebook profile was bursting with persistent prenatal posturing. She adored the adoration. And now Mrs. Davison’s pregnancy was almost over. This was her big, overblown, look-at-me-everyone, mind boggling finish!

Fixing the RED Wagon

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I had put the child's wagon, which had been red once, back together again. “Honey”, I said, “I found out the garbagemen will pick up concrete this month.” So, I put…

The Passenger

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I will not leave the boat. The sea has left you.

Of the Terrible Angels and Their Fleshy Conduits

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Other pathways are more satisfactory. They are more closely attuned to music of the other world. Even so, the heat eventually burns them up.

A Winter Gift

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As we follow the trail and things snap beneath our feet, I tell myself that the snapped things take pleasure, find purpose even, in the sounds they make with my soles.