Most read stories

A Man, a Market and a Mayor

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He sat on the floor and said, "I found this letter W in the jungle. It's b-b-beautiful,"

So then she says

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She says that she’s a prisoner in her own life, and if she wants to get drunk at two in the afternoon with a bunch of union men, then she’ll do it. She says I am welcome to go fuck myself.

Spare Parts

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Breaker's Yard Blues!

Rot

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77 Words About Nothing [5-24-2012]

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Alright is alright but alright is a state of mind, right?

Silent Minority

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She smoothed her hair with a hand that should have been the turning pages of a cheap dime-store novel. I watched her from under my eyebrows but kept my head fixed downward, pretending to pay attention to the 6 ½ narrow stiletto heeled black alligator pumps. Not easy to do,…

paper doll

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she covered me with down and kissed me good night, tucking in loose ends, whispering prayers... she cut me out of paper and blew me into life. she held the scissors near my neck in case i put up a fight. she covered me in clothes cut out of colored paper: polka dotted…

nightwatch

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Breaking the cat's cradled cord she examines her fingernails. She notices a crack in the paintwork, sighs to herself. Makes a mental note to cover it over. Cover it over, paint over the cracks. There's been a lot of that recently, hasn't there?

Sensible Things

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Thirty-seven stitches to sew your ear on, five more to close the skin above your eyebrow...

No Dogs Allowed

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They were an interesting young couple. Tom was a big man with rugged features, though not handsome. His face was deeply pock-marked with the scars that are sometimes left over from a terrible bout with adolescent acne. His wife – though I was never cert

Cold, wet and dreary.

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Cold, wet and dreary.The three words that describe Belgium. A country that owns so little identity. Sure, there are the mussels, beer, wafels and chocolate ... But that's about as far as it goes. The lack of identity rules the country, grayness rules the horizon. And…

Roommate, 2006

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I love her now, but I used hate her because she’d leave hairs on my bar of soap.

Wonder Boy Wonder

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He knew it was messed up and wrong, but sometimes she was the last thing he’d see before the dam burst. It made him feel both the best and the worst.

The Right to Privacy

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Every day, I come home from work and hear you two screaming next door, breaking dishes and furniture and sometimes each other while your toddler wails. And if I can't drown it out with the TV and a beer, I stuff in the earbuds and crank up the iPod, too. That way, I…

Work of a Reader

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Then it gets worse—this reading of books—I go to the café and can only read a minimalist there, one crouton at a time.

Becky

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But it was one of those odd moments in America when you get to see the opposite sex with most of their clothes off, other than at a swimming pool in the summertime. One thing led to another and she wheedled out of me the fact that I drove a very fast ’

Henry Katz

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Henry Katz sat on his couch. He was reading a book. He guessed it was a novel, but he had to keep looking at the cover to remind himself what it was.

The Last Last Ride

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You’d stay on this small roller coaster ride all summer long if you could and if I were a rich man, I would let you. Is it fun riding around in circles? You’re only nine; of course it’s fun.

Life of a Dead Bird

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I have the idea but cannot find the words

Dead Bear

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Most likely, the dead bear would be such a mind-fuck for the building crew that they’d probably just remove it quietly. There could be fines and reports and loads of paperwork involved…news would spread and inspections would follow. Yep, they would probab

Nola Visit

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The little Lady and I drove down to New Orleans to take in the Mardi Gras festivities we’d read so much about.

woman having her hair combed. Degas

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The nude woman sits straight back, with her hand indented in the flesh at her hip, bracing herself as the comb is pulled through her long hair, with her breasts thrust forward into the light.

Пушкин и Baudelaire, via странников

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—but night does not reduce me to sleep / the dragging minutes keep awake / the dark that only opens its deep . . .

Twilight Is Merely A Shade of Color

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Its edges fluttering in the dull breeze, today's town newspaper lay at my old feet, open to the obituary page.

Arcana Magi Zero Arc 2 - c.5

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Alysia saw her reflection in Suzaku’s eyes. There was an empty face looking back.

Reconciliation

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Deciding what is important from the life of a man that you haven't spoken to in ten years was a task that had seemed impossible at the outset. But now, here she stood, having done just that.

Right Here on Our Stage...Tonight

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When Madeline became beset with a malady diagnosed as Harlequin's Syndrome she had to learn to overlook the muffled, but audible, guffaws about her excessive perspiration and slightly stooped posture on stage. She was a trooper and said she knew they came from those who…

Voice of the Past

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You are about to experience a voice from the past. Here we go ... jet back to about 1964. I remember you with the same beard (just a different color!) and slightly longer hair. I remember drinking lots of beer and wine in your basement with Shel

Shameful Maneuvers

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Most of the boys I pretended to marry thought my classroom seductions were funny, but there is a chance that one of the boys turned violent against me.

Notes

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just want to write a music note rap my hands all over my throat jump into the city to stay afloat gotta build me a damn big boat