Most read stories

Writer's Block? Get Nacreous!

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If you have writer’s block, it may be because your childhood wasn’t unhappy enough, but there’s nothing you can do about that now, is there?

Saint Christopher Phone Booth Blues

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I've got to stop it. This can't go on. I've got stop yelling at people. Dog people. What's up with dogs of a sudden? Why does everyone suddenly seem to have a dog? I like dogs. Don't get me wrong. It's unleashed dogs that make me go ballistic. One reason is because …

The Confounded

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Your left hand cups your balls which are drawn up tight under a turgid fireplug cock. Your right hovers over your temple, thumb cocked at the cheek. Your eyes are dreamy, mouth wry, chest and belly furry and fat. You're a picture in a file on my desktop on which…

ScarCity

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I flipped a large cardboard coin On one side it said Abundance But on the other side it said Scarcity I went to the store And began packing everything I could get Into my shopping cart But the things that started spilling over Onto the

Secondhand: Four Inscriptions

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To whoever reads this next--Henry James makes my head hurt.

A Dance at Midnight

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The city was spread before me in a pattern of dancing lights, alternately hidden and revealed by the blowing snow. At this distance, it was almost beautiful. Of course, the beauty was an illusion, obvious only at a distance. If I stood here until dawn, I’

A Measure of How Far Behind We Are + Anecdotes from Recent Rambles

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[T]he Thwaites Glacier . . . still exists as of August 2021, though probably with at least five hundred and twenty fewer gigatons of ice mass than in August 2011.

Fun With Death at the Funeral Directors Convention

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“How about licensed-character theme funerals for kids who die young?” I asked, broaching a sensitive subject. “Do you think they’re”–I hesitated–”a money maker?”

The Story Teller

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I would read her stories on quiet summer days as we sat along the river, just the two of us stretched out in the tall grass, hidden in the shade of the pine trees lining the banks of the Mullica while a gentle breeze cooled our skin. She liked the way I read to…

La sfida

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You don't see the bruises ... you can't foresee the pain. It's intense, so deep and yet so volatile, in vain. He slapped my head once more while he uttered for the millionth time the same old words again: "You're a loser and you'll never win. I hate for you to be my…

Schadenfreude

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It's 50/50 that you'll ever pad your knee enough to ever kneel on it. Your back hurts, the Orthapedist labels it arthritis. I think that means we're getting old, so I crawl up the tower of your body as I'm a little younger, more sprightly. You're a

The Time of His Death

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…if something happened to you so horrible that you no longer felt like living, would it have been better if you had died at birth? Okay, that's probably too early. No reason to act in haste. Maybe you should die when you're eighteen years old, just before…

Cider Spake, BÄÄ!

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no matter how many drunks I spoke to, no matter how many strangers I tried my new theories on, no matter how many of my, currently distant friends I out-witted and educated with my revelatory nuggets of wisdom, I still see no sign of impact on the evening

Mike's Confession in the Basement to Being Allergic to Balls

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He arched an eyebrow.  He was "thinking" — a tricky thing to do, when you never read, even the newspaper.

A New Woman

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George didn’t move when Cindy punched him in the nose. He just stood up and walked to the fridge, poured a glass of water and dropped a few ice cubes into the glass. The ice cracked in the glass as he walked back to the couch.

Conversations in a Chinese Restaurant

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I'm feeling almost better than you know A little bit better than the day before Waking up to a deafening scream Please, please don't hurt me no more Why do I feel like a lost dog? Staring outside the window pane How come I become dark? When the clouds begin to rain…

War Garden

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From the home front....

Nascent Talk with the Gypsy

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She was having a laugh, but I didn't know what about. We were sitting in a big house that was on the top of a large incline. All these books were scattered around, and the walls and the kitchen, the doors and the quarter round and every other thing, was old and…

chelsea wolfe

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exiled from hell where no torture could touch you to a cloud in heaven where no…

Anticipation

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Two minutes later Alicia Morgan stepped out of her car. Her smile faltered momentarily and he saw that she assumed the mistake was hers

Bottles of Happiness

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She sold bottles of happiness at the marketplace. She woke up at dawn every morning to capture rays of happiness in the air. She would jump and let her fingers thread through each ray before sorting them into bottles. She always added a red ribbon to the tops of each…

The Weight of Need

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In need of help, he bought his first self-help book at the age of twenty-nine.

The Poetry Section

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In the poetry section, no one talks except to say, "excuse me," or, "wow," or, "amazing," with the second 'a' stretched out like a blacktop highway. But mostly they say, "excuse me." and that's only because someone dressed in a corduroy jacket is …

A Story from the Diamond

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A sweltering heat sits on the field like a fog failing to move. From the diamond, you were able to see the Chicago skyline poking above the apartment buildings like antennas, sending signals all throughout the world.

Beauty Comes Trailing After Us

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hat

Hell We Were American

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We danced the pee dance after too much Seven Up and tasted odd Jello dishes.

Still Life with Dragonfruit and Absinthe Glass

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Still Life with Dragon Fruit and Absinthe Glass ‚ Allgegenwart ist Einsamkeit. ‘. — Johannes Jakob Hrodebertsohn …And bright inside this space, though outside lightfall? The spillaging of streetlamps does not cross the…

Teddy

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I'd had way too many drinks. My legs were quivering. Everyone had gathered there in the kitchen, my sleek and attractive ex-wife the center of attention, all the men fucking drooling over her. Seems she was a yoga queen now, a vegan princess, a dancer somewhere. She…

The Abstracted Man

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The abstracted man lacks an inside. He is a body. A shell. An exterior that encompasses nothing.The abstracted man yearns to fill himself with adjectives. He lumbers through streets. No adjectives fit. He finds adjectives where we discard them. He carries them in his…

Nehwareven

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In the switched-off time of day's blackest rest-