Most read stories

Cellphone Girl (Part I)

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The calls were going through her as if her whole head had become a wireless receiver. She absolutely did not understand how or why that was happening, but the physical evidence was impossible to ignore.

By 4th Grade at St. Paul’s Elementary, No One Believes in the Spanking-Machine-in-the-Closet of Sister Alice Elenita’s Office

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Arthur farts. Pandemonium. Miss O'Kelly shouts, “Quiet!” 32 nine year-olds freeze. “Close your books, fold your hands on your desk, put your heads down.” Obedience. Silence. Until…

Lord of Autumn

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Gordon He pressed the side of his face to the pillow and waited for the sound of birds. The room was black, the window open; when a breeze came the curtains billowed out against a lighter sky. He heard the clock. He heard the dry sound of Helen breathing;…

Arcana Magi - c.7: Instinct

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Her body shivered from the liquid and she felt loose. Her mind relaxed and a veil of pink mist covered her body.

Sinister Age of the Draft

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The so-called good, a weak but whiny lot, who actually clung to that abstract of "justice for all," would tattle to Mrs. Pufry...Mzzz Puffy, she hit me...Mzzz Puffy he said the bad word...Mzzz Puffy, I gotta go...Mzzz Puffy, Thomas is hanging in the cloak

Hundred Dollar Hit

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"My god," Toni said, bending over and tapping her head gently against the counter in fake anguish. "His ass in those jeans. Jesus. I should be young and lucky like you." Toni tapped her cigarette ash into the coin tray.

Realizing I Have Not Moved From My Bed for Two Days

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Quite frankly you are ruining my life. / I know you don’t mean to, but you are.

Crocodilian

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it ate her and then I was next in line

My Hairy Thumbnail

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I was a gangly 11 years old, a year before the Watergate hearings pre-empted the afternoon cartoons on television, when I discovered an uncle's girlie magazine during routine reconnaissance of my grandmother's hall closet.

Already Dead

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It was already dead and was hanging from her ceiling.

Ah'd love to kiss ya

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“What was the line in the movie Dad?...

Polite Grafitti

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He was entirely guilty of what he had done and wanted that to be acknowledged and understood by the arresting officer.

Why They Cried: Ted

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Ted did not understand turn-of-the-century costume dramas, and because he didn’t understand them, he often referred to them as "chick flicks" or "English crap." Even when the principals were not British. Even when the principals were Winona Ryder.

Dear Joe,

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Walk alone at night, quietly. Pause for eye contact with raccoons and night cats, your drunk self, and lights in the graveyard. Don't apologize for it in the morning. Instead of the shame you feel for one time acting selfishly and chasing a future, say…

Steve Jobs in Hell

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Everyone asks that question. The short answer is: he brought it on himself.

In Her Wake

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A piece of her skull landed here. But it fell off. Then I couldn't find it.

The Hunter

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...I pray for the animal souls I have taken -- panther, gazelle, hyena, vulture...

Hotel Khadijah

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"A prostitute of the Hotel Khadijah in Rahab fell in love with my father...."

Jeanne's Song, 2010

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I think that I write toward death and to stave off death and to remember the dead and to address what is dead in me.

The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly

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One of the women is a brassy blond, and when she takes off her coat, I almost choke on a French fry.

Hello, My Name Is James, And I Am An Asshole

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By my calculations, all hell is uncoiling. At the moment, this fact is not really obvious to anyone, but I'm confident that will change soon enough.

Possum Woman

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They always referred to her as the possum woman back home. She scoured the streets just as the sun fell into deep slumber behind the sentinel, sun tanned shoulders of the mountains encircling small town anywhere.

Love Songs for Kandahar

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You worry that the mullahs suspect us, but that cannot be. We never touch in public. You weep and I shake when a neighbor knocks on the door.

On Tundergarth Farm

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There’s an oak tree in Hanover, New Hampshire. Twenty years old, it is still a sapling. I imagine that one day the tree will have a commanding view of the Connecticut River and Norwich, Vermont, where my mom sat in bed, crying, watching everything unfol

Car Talk

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It had been Tom at the wharf who strode over to greet me, his friend Tom with the small spectacles standing at the bar. “Write it when you get home,” Bella said. I was wearing the same beads.

For Carol: Life Bursts Out

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Life was small. It was tiny even, so tiny it was hard to see it sometimes. Life curled up to make itself even smaller, to fit into the kinds of holes that insects crawl into to get away from bigger insects. Life was sad. Life didn't want to be an insect.

Scrabbled Sensitivities

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It was fun, until he started winning every time.

Contentment

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On the bed he tickled her until she was crying with laughter. And then the tickles became caresses, the fingers, lips.

Wild Strawberries of Mars

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might leave NYC or Earth

Retreat

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We are in search of free hor d’oeuvres, me and Jane – Jane from H.R., Jane who is exactly as plain as her name implies, Jane, who, for now anyway, for this company retreat, is my kindred spirit in broke-ass hangover land.