Most recent stories

Can't We All Be Writers?

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Why not just self-publish on Fictionaut and be read by thousands of my peers? Why not release my cherished work directly to my thousands of Facebook or Twitter or blog friends? Can the budding writer that I am realistically expect a larger audience?

End Scene

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In the fall it is especially beautiful with the blazing orange oaks set on fire against a crystal blue sky. It is here that she frequently daydreams of her demise.

The Taming

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N-n-never screamscold a cat.

Section

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In one section of the map C climbs a staircase.

I am not theirs and they are not mine

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My first year I hated how big and unruly the plants got.

Facing Budget Cuts, Schools Hire Samurai Crossing Guards

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“Out-of-work samurai have a choice,” says Bobby Ito. “They can terrorize local peasants at county fairs, or underbid low-skilled workers for menial jobs.”

Percentages

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There’s a problem with falling for a mostly straight girl. And by mostly straight, I mean, when you and I met at the Christmas cocktail dress-up party a year ago, you in red spandex with white fur trim and me in my straight-from-work black slacks and grey

Scars

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Who hasn't got a scar...some flesh wound of memory.

Deaf

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box

for god's sake, come in me already!

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There were others, too, during those years in the Sixties. I remember hooking up with that JAM girl one more time, when she was married and living in Urbana. They were going to swinger parties at the time, so she wanted to have sex with me once more for

Sex Ed With Barbie and GI Joe

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As soon as I discovered that nasty thing the grownups called “sexuality,” I just knew it would get me in a lot of trouble some day—with Jesus, my parents and some yucky boy—so I hid it. But my Mama and Daddy noticed my sinful sexiness way before I knew I

Entering Massachusetts: Please Don't Hug the Republicans

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I omit the names not to protect the innocent--there aren't any--but because you've got better things to think about in the run-up to the Super Bowl, like does anybody ever pull Troy Polamalu's hair in a pile-up?

What She Left

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I'm on Cloud 9.

Good Country. People.

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Initially, she had no hopes about his impending arrival, scrawny as he was, until realizing that, because he was a boy, because he was new around here, he might want to wrestle.

The Search

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“Sixty-seven responses!” Al Edelstein announces at the first meeting of the search committee. It has been just two weeks since Rabbi Feldman dropped dead of a heart attack and just a week since the congregation ran the ad: “Help Wanted: Orthodox Rabbi. Im

Yukon Mining Company

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“I lay in bed every night and wonder who is lucky enough to go home with you.” That was all it took. She was. You are. Let’s face it: anyone that poses that question is.

Road Trip

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I'm sitting in a burned out skeletal frame of an old Cadillac on the side of Route 66 just outside of Kansas. Back home in New York State my sister is explaining to my mother that Jack Kerouac convinced me to run away even though he's been dead for years. They're…

You Don't Have To Put On Your Red Light

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"She began singing The Police song, 'Roxanne' in a falsetto voice, just like Sting."

just like James Taylor

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tell me about the time you lived in Carolina, and what my smile does for you.

Kraków Correspondence

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The SS and Gestapo began rounding us up, at least those who aren’t registered, those without yellow cards, today. Rumor has it they got at least 1,000 and took them to the camp, to the barracks. I tried not to watch and only listened, only heard some of t

Long Term Medical Plan

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“It's going to be hitting around the mid-90's tomorrow” said the television expert. “So what? Like 1995?” “Maybe, perhaps even '96” “Does this mean I should break out my Backstreet Boys record?” …

A Felinist Critique of Macbeth

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Lady Macbeth goes around moaning “out, out damned spot,” when a well-placed lick would have solved the problem immediately, with no unnecessary and heavy-handed dialogue. Once again, clumsy work.

Fourth World

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Where are you going, boy who never was?

Remembering Ginsberg

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Remembering Ginsberg who howled through just about everybody's idea of the real weirdo poet

Of the smokers I’ve kissed

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The man next to me on the Shinkansen from Tokyo to Kyoto makes me think of the smokers I’ve kissed.

The Hound - Part 4

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My gaze could have gutted any man. Any man, but John Marcy. History would write that John Marcy was a traitor to his country. Public enemy number one in the state of New York. When that probably couldn’t be farther from the truth.

A Cool Dry Place PART 1

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There are times when she is heavy and times when she is light.

Bitter the Sun When It Is in Hades

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Bitter the sun when it is in Hades High fans meaning nothing keep the heat down but the nitre keeps burning So glows the gloss and high sheen on the skin Foreheads exhibit thought though the eyes are crossed and at night, butterflies i

What We See

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One day they will take what remains of my eyes so someone else can use them to see beauty, someone who will value them more than I have, someone who will be strong enough to keep them pointed away from ugly things.

The Scarlet Tanager and the Sparrows

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“Eat more bugs,” said an old one.