Most read stories

Opening Line

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I cannot read one more award winning novel by a female Asian author about the atrocities committed against their childhood, she thought. Then she sat down with her trusty yellow pad and Papermate fineline to write the next lyrical story of a female Asian writer and the…

The Sky is Simply White

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The rain is no terrible epitaph

Gastronomy

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your olive-pitting thumbs

On " Thinking outside the box."

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Love to. Really would. …

Hemera Rises

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The woods. They say don’t wander too far into the woods, where those ghosts can’t hear you and the moonlight won’t trace you a path. In the black crowd of trees there’s something waiting. Don’t go to the where the siren is singing...

Mother Died Tomorrow

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memories that no longer make sense

Bad Attitude

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Start with a long look down the alley, a small hoodied figure turning in.

There's No Crying in Poetry

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There’s / no crying in poetry!” says Coach / Bukowski

Locations

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They confess love for Karaoke and metal rock. They have purchased expensive Stratocasters and Zildjians.

The Marriott Hotel, Downtown Brooklyn

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There was a time when she could quell the loathing that Fred inspired in her. She could force it down. Back then, for instance, when they’d been in counseling, the ball of hatred had only been a little, overripe orange - squishy and occasionally mushed

Breakfast Dance - a 55 word story

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The handsome man at the opposite table swivels his head at the tall cool slim blonde entering the breakfast cafe. The ordinary woman sitting with him adjusts her chair accordingly. She pretends to ignore her husband's distraction, smoothes her hair, licks her…

Backwards

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One of her favorites was of an old axe asleep on a desert floor. She told people the axe had the western lips of September. That it held the song of the ocean and the dreams of a scarecrow. Some thought she was mad to talk in such a way. Others believed h

Art & Me

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A human cop and a cyborg detective team up to solve a case. A sci-fi-pulp-noir-detective story.

When you were nine

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When you were nine your head fell off in the playground. Dr Mort was called. He pasted it back on with PVA glue. You'd never know now.——When you were nine your arms turned into trees. Dr Mort worked his magic with the chainsaw. You still need light pruning once…

The Deli Worker

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This is the story of my friend, Gil

The Death of Narrative

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“Why, you tell a story,” one young fellow said. The expression on his face said “How gauche, how passé!”

Migration

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She offers the girl a seat, asks her to stay for a minute, but she can’t, she just came by to say hello, and don’t you like my new raincoat?

Book Killer

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Sometimes after bookbinding for a few hours at the hand-sewing table, Jillie would, after scraping her knife too roughly over the glue of an old book's spine, feel not like a resurrector of literature, as she should, but a killer. Not a calculating or

February Fifth

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We've worked silence over / Like pros, our best work together.

Zen and the Art of Enjoying the Last Laugh

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What doesn't kill you gives you great material.

Battle at the Bodega

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Mr. Lowell knelt down and put his face in his hands, his knees quickly covered in blood. Sobs.

Hard To Know You Can't Go Back

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The light against the nylon walls of the tent gets me feeling a little down. The air's wet inside, but it's warm. The whole world outside is creaking and chirping, everything that wakes up with the dawn's first tepid blue light does so and starts making n

Starspeak

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So if we all have an idea what goes down when the young person at the cash register (the registerista?) asks, “Can I help you?” then we all know there’s a different way to habla at Seattle’s gift to the world.

Invicta

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As military tears soaked into hymnbook pages

mary jane - snow white super girl

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holland's hope and hawaii skunk god's one true gift to mankind

Homing Pigeons

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Sometimes, they beat their masters home...

Class

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Class (appears in my book Breaking it Down; no journal publication) When your neighbor James Frehley cusses you out for hanging a block and tackle from the silver maple in your front lawn, begin to pull the engine from your Galaxie anyway, smile and nod…

Hot Cocoa and Bourbon

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Walking into the living room and next to the tree, he handed his wife Kathy her Minnie and plopped himself on the couch. Their three kids, two girls and the youngest a boy, tore through the wrapping paper like a pack of rabid wolves tearing through a deer

The New Dark Ages

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It was only later, much later, that we would discover that the war we were fighting was a war between ourselves. Melissa and I left the machine, with Carlton lost forever inside. We abandoned the warehouse. Our backs were scalded from the heat, and the hole in the…

All Art Is Betrayal

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a world of probability against plague