Most recent stories

Five Million Yen: Chapter 4

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There was no one there, but the smell of cooked bacon permeated the hall, triggering borborygmus in his stomach. He loved that word, but not his empty stomach.

Want

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I want you closeI want to feel youinside me,softening me untilmy borders are blurredand I'm hardly breathing,my heart swellingso big itbrings me to my knees,I want to know thepain of losing youeach time youclose your eyes andgo to sleep anddream of someone else,I want to…

Some Pianos

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We bought a grand piano at Steinway Hall after 9/11, chased uptown by the dust of death and awakening from dreams of miniature jumpers stuck in the icing of white wedding cakes

Help From The Sunrise

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Ellen arrived on the beach when it was still too dark to see the ground; the fine shells and small, sharp rocks hurt her feet, but she went ahead until her toes felt the edge…

Jade Cicada

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Jade in the emperor’s death mouth – to the grave – all openings closed – no breath – no air – no life to enter to leave – the end should be silent – you stop my mouth

Confessions of a Likeaholic

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"Something happens in a magical, soulful part of the heart...and you see YOU. You see yourself." "I can't look at myself."

The House on El Nino Diablo Court

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On a cold, dark night near to All Hallows' Eve in October of 1930, I was summoned by Constable John Wakefield to the house of Vernalier Driscoll. The constable was wild-eyed and very nervous, his hair appeared to be standing on end.

Twedes

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“Last night the Scots invaded Sweden,” I wrote, “to retrieve the silver filched from the Irish the Norwegians had in their coffers when Sweden conquered. The Swedes offered the Nobel to a Scots writer to keep ... the peace."

Irreversible Dad

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"It's irreversible."

Excerpts from 'Dispatches from the Front: My Life in NE Portland—diary by JENA RACHEL ROCKWELL (year 08)'

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I'm getting self-righteous here, Dear Reader . . . [hey! wait a second! this is my diary! what are you doing, looking at it, dude! Hit the road! Scram! Vamoose!]

Stinger: a Novel

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Lipstick on the bolt, she told herself, if it's no good in the slot anymore.

Five Million Yen: Chapter 3

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Now you are a raving bare-forked fool madman with nothing.

Ketchup and eggs

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As a young baby, perhaps a year old, I have a memory of sitting on myfathers lap, in front of a coal stove to keep us warm, while my mothercooked soft boiled eggs for him every morning. He would break offa piece of his toast, dip it in the egg, and feed it to…

Epicure

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Edwin was the last thing I bought. With his uneven eyes and curious leg stumps, he was a must-have. When I showed Edwin to my housemates he was hugged many times, and praised as though he was real. Knowing my housemates, Edwin may have saved some lives…

Things Like This

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I'm an older guy. She is still quite young. I tell her I may be too old but she giggles and tells me that she did the research and it said because there is snow on the roof doesn't mean no fire's in the stove. She proved it. Things like this. We excite ourselves,…

Little Doggy

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"A gush of sand- peppered wind from a passing semi-trailer hit my face rousing me from my mental comparisons."

My 250 lb. Dog

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to accomodate my 250 lb. dog

The Inkblot Test

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“Regard this inkblot,” the Psych says to Worker 168. “What do you see?” Worker 168, a thin young women wearing overalls, peers at the inkblot. “I see a beautiful summer day,” she says. “A young woman, wearing a flowing dress, sits…

Mice

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Short, but true. Damnit.

Upstairs on Montague Street

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Benton showed her his old room, a shrine of old posters and records. But it had been cleaned out, made to look like a guest room. “Kiss me,” Benton said. “April.” “That was just a name, so don't get any…

We Should Be Hordes Around Their Castles

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We have been well and truly fucked with ideological batons

I Like the Celebration

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But please, don't let me fall into any more smaller pieces than I already have, before I get to kiss someone again and really mean It. I'm pretty sure I've always believed in something more positive than just hate. I've …

The World as Thrill and Calculation

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Professor Immanuel Danda finished his Ph.D. at 21, which, according to most of his friends and a few of his enemies, makes him a genius, though, personally, he always found himself to be a scruffy loser, if one were to believe, above all else, the mirror

Night Flowers

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Night Flowers By Zofia Barisas The garden lies in deep darkness even in the noon of blazing day. A steamy pond lies still in wait for uncertain footsteps. Here aquatic green spiders, big as frogs, spin iridescent webs from leaf to leaf. Gigantic, ancient trees stand…

Quittin' Ain't Easy

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Hey, Y'all! Like I told y'all, I checked myself into this what you call a “ facebook Rehab Clinic” up here just about 40 miles outside of Kalispell, Montana in a little town called Gulag. I quit MySpace and that got me a reduced rate. Things are…

The Last Fly of Summer

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"...leafing through the SEBRING 100 WALLAMATIC record selector..."

What was your first Combat Mobile Team experience?

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My first Combat Mobile experience was as the only Specialist in an ATC ("air traffic control") assignment. The rest of the squad were simple grunts lead by the massive Sergeant James T. Adams, Regular Army, the ghost of the Central Highlands. Sgt. Adams m

Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen

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My name is Mandy and I'll be your narrator today. I'd like to welcome you aboard. You will be reading at the approximate speed of one hundred words per minute. Total estimated reading time will be about fifteen minutes. At this time, I'd like to point out several of the…

The Library of the Realm of Dreams

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I hold down the control-alt-delete keys simultaneously and the screen goes blank, sending Camus into a paroxysm of fear; for a guy who wrote an essay on facing down suicide, he’s kind of jumpy.

cuneus + forma

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the warnings we fear are the selfsame ones of ourselves of our vertical need to be first to the heights redoubling its intractable charm of production— our inheritance.