Most read stories

Plastic Jesus

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Plastic Jesus wears a crown of thorns. I gesture and say: Does that hurt? He says: What do you mean? so I point at his forehead and his hand goes to it and he says O that

Arcana Magi - c.17: Separation

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The Sentinels held up their weapons at the main door, preparing for a fight. Lori saw the look on the girl’s eyes, something she felt she should not see in them.

Boyfriends

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He's Eric Roberts, the stalker and eventual killer in Star '80.

Drinking an Orange Julius While Listening to Pink Floyd

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I was strapped for cache

The Faceless Girl Tells Stories

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spreading gilded pages with a tlickt

Hanging

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Hanging was back and thriving - twice a week at half seven in the evening.

The Gift

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She reached under the tissue and pulled out a third gift. “It’s like peeling open my heart,” he said, “one layer for each year.”

A Body of Water Invites All Things

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My resistance sublimates. There is a long instant of absolute relinquishment, in which I imagine droplets of water plinking into my lungs in a slow, musical fashion, like icicles melting in a perfect cave.

Love At Last

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They shared a lot through the years – a bus stop, acne, and first kiss stories. George was happy to be her confidant, good enough friends to help shoulder her burdens. But he wanted to push her curls back behind her ear and trace her soft cheek with his f

Betty Superman

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No, I just liked what it said "All at Once Is What Eternity Is" which seemed right to my seventeen year old mind, explained it all to me the way nothing else did. I matted the poster in art class and put it in a frame over my bed. Betty hated the poster.

Advice to Horror Girl Victims

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leave a trail of potential weapons dropped from your shaking hands. you must always make it easy for him to follow.

Disassembly

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Maybe the thing is over by now. They have gathered up all the pictures and mementos of our dad’s life and hauled them away.

Come and be a part of it!

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Do you want social justice! Do you want a good and fair world!

Firefly Squids

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On the fisherman boat, we were told to place the helpless firefly squids in our mouths. I watched cheeks light up like light bulbs and I wondered how barbarism could be so beautiful.

Whorehouse Piano Players of the Mississippi Valley

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Imagine, if you will, the heartland of America–the Mississippi River Valley–as a woman sprawled out on a bed.

Ask Mr. Fix-It!

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Got a home repair question? Ask Mr. Fix-It! He usually knows the answer, and if not, your problem isn’t worth fixing.

The Motel

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She dreamed of a beach.

How To Train A Rock

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The first thing one notices about rocks is they are essentially quiet creatures. Adverse to long discourses or extended bouts of conversation, they nevertheless are quite engaged in life.

How Poets Die

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Mark Strandover decadesa steady diet of dictionenlarged his heartone day it just burstRobert Frosta crazy ideathat he couldbuild a wallwithout mortar tookpossession of his mindhe piled stoneon stone higherand higher untilthey toppled overcrushing him beneath Wilfred…

Shrine

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My tongue is clicking. I want to act out. I want an unprofessional bargain.

Lenin's Paintings

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I was going through Lenin's jewelry and his paintings with a team of experts. I got the idea that I was hired to verify his paintings, although I didn't know he painted.

Six Feet Over

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I’ve paid my dues in this dimension/ so show me where the rest of them are

Sloth

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(Insert poignant line here)

strannikov's High Definitions

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Human being: a fruit or vegetable with animal aspirations and a mineral destiny.

Don't Forget the Sun

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That’s when the inconspicuous-until-now janitor saunters over, glances down at their starlist and mumbles, “Don’t forget the sun,” and the astronomers all slap their foreheads and smile.

The Cabin

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That evening I sat and watched the sunset. The color of the water changed from blue to black. The sky turned from pink to star-spangled ebony. There was no moon.

The Writer as Rapist

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She's at an artist colony in the state of Virginia. She's in her studio. She should be writing. That's what everybody thinks she's doing out here. Why else would she be in her studio alone at 3:00 a.m.? But there's an interloper. A new painter? Sculptor? Maybe he…

What have you been doing with your life?

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Homegirl wanted someone to love her so much they could suicide together.

The Party

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My wife tells me I should marry Pam. “She would be good for you,” she says.

Inner Charlie

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When Charlie woke up he couldn’t find his inner Charlie.