1535 6 1
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121074
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not in the interest of verisimilitude/
for there's plenty of that in each day already/
as trajectories interrupt other trajectories
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142820
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"The rider rode his bike in Arizona just about every day and for all the usual reasons....."
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145900
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The pit of my stomach was bottoming out, this lurching sort-of feeling one experiences when one has coasted WELL OVER an abyss and has no way of finding one's bearings . . .
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21741712
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Conceptio culpa
Nasci pena
Labor vita
Necesse mori
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127920
|
Loss and awakening are irrevocable. Love and grief are one.
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98210
|
The Starship Emphasis was not having a good day, as two of their crew members had already died of dysentery because someone shat in the water again.
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273497
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Let’s be honest, you were cheating on your girlfriend, and I would’ve slept with anyone
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129993
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How many extinctions can we claim?/
Is someone keeping score?/
Somebody needs to keep the score
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156910
|
I leapt up to retaliate when the clang of a distant door quieted my retesance. Shit, why am I so popular? I guess it was my turn to be thrown around like the guy in the Hotdog suit on the corner... Don't shoot the "Hotdog" guy... Please, please don't
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114200
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....sucking my blood
kind of draws the line.
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149320
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It's cloudy out. So I go to the Assisted Suicide Center on Venice Blvd. It doesn't mean I'm gonna off myself because it's cloudy. There just happens to be a kind of puzzle of clouds in the sky the moment I decide to head over there. I find it fitting, thi
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112010
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The pavement was so hot, it burned the souls of my feet. I really thought they would blister, but they rarely did. I would try to walk on the grass, between driveways. Carrying that large bulky box. I would hear the the slap, slap, slap, of some of the other…
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27212521
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i could make swamp boys believe / under dust-sheets stiffened by ice
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2896138
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I stood there skinny-as-a-half in “big hair,” ankle boots, and black eyeliner. P. was in radio, not books. He had a sense of humor. I was researching a different man for a novel.
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99361
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Every morning there’s the breast
and the nipples of ecstasy
It is not the spider’s fault
that it is mesmerized by the web
Blame nature, blame God
Doesn’t the alley cat
automatically know how to howl?
Don’t blame me
if I am addicted t
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111000
|
I feel like I can never possibly amount to all of the impossible feats I want to. Therefore, I must try and discover all that I can in the time that I have. Time is allotted from our beginnings. Theories about where we begin are disastrously…
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180391
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The television volume softens in the shadows.
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150541
|
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95700
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http://fictionique.com/?p=16220
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112400
|
The paper
in his typewriter
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102200
|
He looked for Arris among the patrons. There were a few artist types and professional drinkers at the bar. Only two tables had customers. Arris was not among them.
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25731613
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Confused, I paused and locked eyes with the girl who’d just bounced it with the long, dark hair. “I just saw you with it.”
She stared back at me. “Do you see it in my hands now?”
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207300
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My novel-in-stories, NAN, is now available as an ebook for $6.99. Thanks to everyone who read the first 7 published stories here on Fictionaut.
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1064180
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I don’t read.
I don’t do the dishes.
What am I?
If I were more domesticated, I’d poop in the street.
I’d lift my leg and pee on the bushes.
I would chase after every ass in the hood
and sniff them too.
I wouldn’t fetch much.
What am I? Wha
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1433104
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Contest rules are simple. Two teams of five hunters each are established by drawing from pools of interested volunteers and selected prison inmates confined for capital crimes and illegal immigration.
|
161232
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Momma pointed out our paintings on the walls, the signs we had learned, but when Daddy saw our friends, their wheelchairs, braces on their legs, he left...
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194710
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After nine months, I was granted early parole...
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177042
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He had thought of the walk down to Mrs Greensmith’s shop when he and all the men beside him reckoned they’d “had it” that time when II SS Panzer-Division had fought like gods for Hill 212.
|
152773
|
They called him “Albert, the Human Armadillo,” and he was. Rows of hard scales ran down the course of his chest, and he was studied and biopsied by doctor after doctor. “Psoriasis,” they said. “Or, eczema.” They prescribed ointments and oils that left him
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