Most read stories

universal placeholder

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ambiguity of lightning

Simpler Disasters

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In the afternoon, there was a certain time when the sunlight spilled through the windows in the common room and made everything look all bright and fresh and optimistic. If you ignored the patients and doctors milling about and…

Confrontation on the field of play

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The boy wasn’t raised this way.

Tons

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Drink tons of water they keep telling me...

Hey, That's One Gulp per Magic Fish to You, Bub

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This is the hole I fell in. I can sort of crawl out of it now, but I must have fallen fastasleep in there. Does it really matter if it was for a long or a short time? Everyone is suddenly gone like a smile and replaced lately by sadly different versions…

Trans

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so much of what we know with certainty is amazingly uncertain

The Meds

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What don't they all do for us?They absorb, eliminate negative feelings and make you smile. To just name a few ... They make you sane, how insane it may seem from a certain point of view.But let me tell you this: I'm 1300 kms away from my family. I don't care much about…

air hugs

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but all I can give them now are air hugs

Five Million Yen: Chapter 24

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As Zoë says, “You and your musician friends drink in industrial quantities.”

the last day of the world

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I thought that was the last day of the world (when I floated up near your ceiling,) but it was the first. I thought I had seen the worst. But that was nothing. I know you had no idea what was coming when I first met you. But when we looked in each other

Love Letter From a Content Writer

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This was supposed to be a love letter written by a content writer, then it just got weird.

Aftermath

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You better read the papers If you don’t understand Cause as of last night I’m a one-man band You’d better walk through water With your boots on fire Cause Baby I don’t think I can take this any higher You’d better find out what I dr

Pitcher

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the shape only adhering

Ink on Paper

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Waves like lovers gather and crest, crash into White uncertainty.

Oddities

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Sometimes he would get up at night, go outside, and stand in the middle of their back yard.

Blood In Heaven

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She felt the ants crawling across her arms, felt them digging into her flesh. The needle was still attached to her flesh, bruises lined along the stretch of skin. Her body convulsed until she slipped into slumber. The following morning she could no longer continue her self…

Jam Sessions with Wannabe Rock Stars

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Hey Sledge! Yo. Did you know Socrates hated the idea of writing thoughts down? He said it weakened the memory…made us lazy. Say wha? That's why he never wrote a book. The only way we know about him is through his student Plato's writing. St

civilization

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pain and anger

The Wait

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Transhumanism has always had its malcontents usually derived from some philosophic contestation, but for all their thought experiments, somehow my present situation eluded them.

The Nurse's Dream of Flowershops

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the lazy leaves of a parlour palm finger lavender in a wine bottle.

Pops

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My father is the kind of man to shout at you / just because you took the wrong road / at least the road that he’s not used to...

Portrait without Birds

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so Tippi has no interest

3

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1 is another.

Other Verities

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He who is well hydrated, won't sweat you

For Linebacker-Poets, Annual Award Ceremony a Jarring Hit

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Dutton felt thwarted in his literary career, producing only the classic "Here I sit all broken-hearted, paid a nickel to crap and only farted" in a locker room stall at halftime of the 1963 Weedwacker Bowl.

First Man ~ 1947

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By the basement washtubs, I watched him skin a squirrel:

Letter

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I'm writing you this letter played on a cherry flute. I'm sending it along through the poem's cloud of incense. The only delivery system I still hitch up for long distance pitching. I'm writing you a letter you'll probably never read. Never…

Dinosaur

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All of the students’ eyes were fixed on him, and now Nelson was embarrassed. It’s not that he didn’t want to pay attention. He already knew the answer to this book. But he wouldn’t dare tell the rest of the class or Mrs. Edwards.

Broken

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I rang the doorbell. Claire opened the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I opened my arms to give her a big hug. She stiffened and pulled away. Stunned, my lips parted, but I couldn’t think of a single word to say. Ideal, Phillis. ”Broken”, Pure

Disappearing

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They say nothing, but instead watch the birds and people hovering. Every day is an echo of the one before, and the weight of waiting has begun to show itself in the stature of the tiny man and his little old wife. …