Most read stories

What Literary Rejection Letters Would Mean In The Real World

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I ask for your patience with this form message, as it is part of a system that ensures every submissive ex lover is considered separately, since I am involved in a lot of anonymous sex.

The Words Fall Into Ash

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The two were huddled in a corner of an alley, joined by some others that I’m sure wandered into the darkness when they realized they were far from alone. That alley was the one off Market Street. I used to steal candy from the corner shop when I was nin

I Am Wearing Stolen Socks

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I am wearing stolen socks. Not because I haven't any of my own, and not because they are an exact fit. Only because they soothe my emptiness inside.

The Perils of Open Hand

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There are worse things than getting your ass kicked by a 12 year old Puerto Rican kid. This was exactly my thinking as he stood over me, his pre-pubescent screams sounding like a baby Bruce Lee, preparing to finish me off.

Welcome to the Occupation

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You just watch, the schoolteachers’ll be next and then you’ll see shit go down. Imagine what happens when a fifth-grader sees his teacher getting frog-marched through a crowd on YouTube.

Looney Tunes

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I put my arms around her and whisper to her while she plays the piano. She wiggles and tells me to stop it.

The Zilch Belches Out Its Own National Anthem To the Trendy Crowds

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" Not a day goes by/ that isn't stabbed with common sorrow"--Maurice Manning Crazy's alright by me if it's a harmless plea for some little sanity, or unavoidable by birth but it just won't do for tricks. Like say I go over there right…

Becoming an Author

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"good luck, and be assured acceptance for representation or publication is based on different criteria at different agencies and we are sure you will yet find someone mentally deficient enough to give your book a shot."

forever

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over tea & saltineshe read melike an obituary

Love Story

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You longed to rip off her butterfly wings and watch her scream in agony. You ached to carve the steel from her eyes.

dinner for one

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no one else comes in my back door but you

People Called Our Windows Art

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Mama hung them everywhere. It started with just a few, in our apartment and outside on the brick. She made walls into windows.

Arcana Magi - c.16: Fragile Friendship

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Alysia stopped for a moment. She knew what she was going to say, but held back her words and thoughts. Chisame took advantage of her hesitance.

Finite Automatons in Winter Quarter

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To my right, blank stares interchange with closed eyelids on an unkempt face. The minutes drip into the endless sea of night outside the window, each time creating a deeper blackness.

Laundry List

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• Don’t confuse the virtues of bananas with the virtues of banana bread

A Woman Who Watches

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She was a beautiful woman. I don't argue with that. I welcome it.

The Watchman

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The coffins pile up gnawing dust on the glass panes to the rims of my binoculars. Shadowy cracks of stifling proportions, gliding over my eyes a requiem of mahogany. At dawn they heave between the workers’ hands, leave their resting places for a green tra

PLAYGROUND

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Marie shrugs. “Maybe she’s just late. Come on, let's wait by the jungle gym.” She runs over and starts climbing. The jungle gym is closest to the path that goes into the woods and down into the canyon. She has to get him into the woods somehow.

Chairs and Mirrors

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There's a mirror in front of me and I thought it was so I could see myself, but I didn't want to see me.

World Trade Center

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I can feel the souls of those who perished here They’re still here like old kites hanging in the sky tattered, but they won’t come down or can’t come down just yet because they haven’t fulfilled their unborn promises t

Like Counting Raindrops

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When I glance at the bedside clock I realize that we have been making love in one way or another for nearly three hours now. I am filled with a certain secret smugness that I am still going strong. It has been a long time since I’ve done anything quite li

Doctor, My Eyes

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...it was just my heart stnging through my eyes...

About My Dad

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My dad drove a Model A Roadster and had a photo taken of him on a hunting trip up in Wisconsin with one leather boot up on the running board and a .22 caliber pistol in his hand like Ernest Hemingway and Clark Gable rolled into one My dad ro

Infinity Pool

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I sink until water saturates my lashes, waiting, breathless, for the words to stop.

Human Frailty

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Conceptio culpa Nasci pena Labor vita Necesse mori

Barcode, Sloe Gin Fizz is Pink

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Sloe Gin Fizz is pink Bombay Gin comes in blue I’m sitting here at Emerald’s And all I can think of is – you.

Variation on a Variation of a Mode

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Borges must be so proud somewhere

Ingrid Bergman Answers the Call

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Out the window is an empty birdbath, dry flaky concrete ring, no birds.

Talking about a Friend Over a Cup or Two of Coffee

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Talking about a Friend Over a Cup or Two of Coffee “Their first fight was over school lunches. Free school lunches. She taught Kindergarten in a public special ed center for emotionally disturbed children. The…

Tornado Diary

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The storm grew in might until it spawned the worst kind of tornado, an F-5 or Finger of God.