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compass/ion

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a question that (never) left

Happiness

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Was I a dreamer? Was I asking for too much?

Royal Coachman

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" trout hovered in a sun-dappled pool"

The Intervention

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"You're publishing too much too / quickly. We think that's unhealthy. We want you / to slow down. You're becoming a fame whore."

desire

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burning for You, caught in between, yearning to remain completely wrapped around Your finger, feeling panoramic, and this alive.

Shine

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I was afraid of needles and ponds of water and I was transfixed by both.

Arcana Magi - c.10: To the Horizon

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“Stay there Alysia!” Brie said from behind as she ran toward them. The Sentinel used Alysia’s back as a step and launched herself into the air with Legacy over her head.

How to travel with your Demons (5)

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She believes that this started with a phone call when she walked out of the deli yesterday. She believes that it started when it was snowing this morning in Brooklyn, waiting for her car to arrive, but the truth is, this journey began a long time ago.

The Sitzer

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Fred, who by that point had already wanted to call Jimmy "Jim," talked a river. Jimmy, who had already called her Freddy, took a mojo bag from his back pants pocket and asked her to write something that he could put inside.

Re: “oo===D---o-}-<,” Fiction Submission

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Fake letter, 55 words.

Grandma

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It was a subtle change. Jeffrey's grandmother was never graceful. Her figure was like a garbage bag filled with rounded masses of leaves and the unexpected angle of the odd stick, the entire shambling affair draped in soiled and yellowed hand-knit clothing…

Soon, and for the Rest of Your Life

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. . . and the last thing you’ll smell will be new-cut pine.

The Heart Does Not Know What It Cannot Have

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“I take him to see all those sexy movies,” she said, “because it puts the passion back in him. I love what he does to me when we get back home after those movies.”

Louis Belfast

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"You know, there really is a death of the heart."

Defender

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He had what was commonly referred to in junior high as the ‘bullshit mustache’.

Ode to a Crow

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We walk in silence. We water our plants. We don’t eat as well as we should. We try to love. We try to forget.

April 2nd: National Have Sex With An Ugly Person Day

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Let's be honest. Ugly people have an uphill battle in this culture. From the time they slide out of their ugly mothers they stand at the plate with two strikes.

Naked (a translation)

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His body echoed in the mirror/ cracked into distant images

Flexeril and Hydrocodone and Want

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Flexeril and Hydrocodon... For my back

A Fate Worse than Death

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The abandoned body got up and left the room. It was just in time to greet his wife and daughter, who were just coming in the front door.

Rocky Mountain Oysters

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“They’re Rocky Mountain Oysters,” the blond said. “Fresh. You’ll absolutely love them Jim.”

The Last 3,600 Seconds

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I can feel everything getting closer, the past catching up. All the cunts and cocks and clits I've ever touched. I left them all on the other side of the world, and now they're creeping back to me.

Mr. Natural and a Little Opium On the Side

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It was a sloppy little factory town that could be beautiful, but never bothered trying. Sits on a big lake. More bars than churches, and too many of both. Racist. We hated anybody who didn’t believe in white Jesus

Autumn Offering

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You may gather from me the spring of my youth

Lancelot Meets Goya Meets Cortázar Meets Mowat

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to say that he was doing fine

to day

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I turn my head. Time starts running.

We're All Guys Here

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The doorbell rang while Ron was masturbating.He closed his eyes tight. Tried to hold the image of Lori bent over the arm of the couch. No use. It was gone. Ron sighed, then levered the recliner down. Tied on the terry-cloth robe Lori had given him. He kicked aside an empty…

Haze

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I slide my hand under the sheets. It’s cool there. An impression. This is where she would be.

Real As Your Underwear

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when unicorns took to flight / the poles shifted / the world flooded / and Pangaea busted open like calloused palm

The Creature, to an Empty Chair

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It is pain taking a form, Plato’s dream, born from your hands father that rejected me, giving me the color of abandonment, eyes dulled by isolation, a body deceased without life-giving touch.