Most recent stories

london walking (empty streets)

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st. paul is steeped in fog. mist and rain make the north side a grainy faded photograph, almost timeless.

strapped to the mast

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The light streaming out of the background of things, in the absence of memory. That’s what I’m talking about. Prepare to let out all your light from night until dawn, if you want to be in the middle of life. I never wanted to stay at the edges. It didn’

Eat, Pray, Network

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The image was startlingly unfamiliar. Looking at it, no one would guess it had been their last attempt, their last failure. No one would believe that they had never really been that way, or that the life they shared was built on mind games, manipulation a

Dad and the Red Light

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The light turns green.

fish gut buckets

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The pier stretched out by where sharks came and men waited with beautiful dirty buckets that held strange and dangerous things, buckets with fish guts, buckets with blood, with character, buckets like prophets or a gritty desert walking saviour like Chris

Lay on Me

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On Friday nights I'm not there.

Return To Sender.

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"...his previous prognosis of never being able to walk again has been upgraded to 'severe and debilitating physical pain and mental anguish,' so maybe there really IS a God!"

2-D CUCKOLDS IN TV SOAPS

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Tread acres and acres of aches

Letting Go

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Jerrod's lips and tongue were like slabs of bologna someone shook in Kirsten’s face as she hit the turn signal. Kirsten was proud of herself. She'd been taking it well and she was pretty sure her real feelings weren’t poking through.

not all scars are the same

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All I wanted to know was: Am I coming close? You could have given me a clue. How was I to know how deep the scar ran? I always thought scars were superficial, but I was young, and willing – what did I know? What would they have done if they had come

Fruit and Vegetable

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I walk into the fruit and vegetable market and she sees me right away. I've been trying to avoid her and have been successful for more than three weeks. The break-up was not a good one. I still have a scar over my left eye where the glass ashtray hit me.

An Articulation of Blades

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The new king hunted often. We heard her whirring above, the terrible whirring a forest of—, and she drifted over our city half dangling from the chopper, rifle barrel glinting.

What you're waiting for.

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I figure maybe I’m mostly alone; they are all running down staircases or falling down fire escapes, some of them naked, some of them with towels, mostly probably naked though.

Class

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Before they ever spoke, Linda and Meg had sat next to each other in the cramped lecture hall for three weeks, their thighs touching, while Dr. Laurens showed slides of ancient Japanese art. Meg's eyes never left the screen, but Linda glanced at her as often as she…

The Art of Joy

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The girl who was me stands in a sandbox with upraised arms, honey hair tied with olive yarn in two ponytails. She says nothing, but wants me to pick her up.

Mission of Mercy Brings Vowels to Kyrgyzstan

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“Me–I am too old for help now,” says Askr Bakyv. “But perhaps it is not too late for them,” he says, pointing to his son and two daughters. “They are the future.”

just one more time, God, I promise

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The last time I was with Terry, she surprised me by crossing herself just before we had sex. She too had been going out with this Mario pimp, with his ski boat out on Fox River. The guy who was going around sniffing after most (if not all) of my old gir

Genesters

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There once was a lake skipping stone and it skipped, five times, the end... Ceiling fluorescents brilliant in the white space opened to the exterior of the Hog n' Bluster hero shop through the narrow glass front and shown out to the empty brick paved commons of…

The Tale of the Donut and the Éclair

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“I scheduled some time today to talk to you about something…something important. Since you’re going on with your life, leaving everything you’ve known so far, you’re going to need some information about sex.”

Cold, wet and dreary.

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Cold, wet and dreary.The three words that describe Belgium. A country that owns so little identity. Sure, there are the mussels, beer, wafels and chocolate ... But that's about as far as it goes. The lack of identity rules the country, grayness rules the horizon. And…

Table for One

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He keeps re-reading the menu but knows already how it ends..

Name

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Every day, I write myself further away From the East Where we began

Almighty Pink Slip

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I fired God today. He wasn't showing up for work, slept through meetings, wrote ambiguous memos and killed too many innocents. Things just weren't working out.

Fighting Global Warming, the Ted Turner Way

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The chairman ushers Ted Turner into the dining room on the pretext that a prime cut of a young left-handed pitcher who lost his fastball is about to be carved at a buffet.

Crocodilian

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it ate her and then I was next in line

Mesh

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driving and standing in front of the same car

my own image breaking and falling

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What went racing through my mind as Lynda was telling me about the farmer she was seeing out in Western Illinois with his 12 inch dick? She was only 5’2”. “It’s so big I can barely get it all in me,” she said, with her mouth part way open. That old look

Night & Day

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It was oddly quiet, and the air had a strangely urgent quality. The sun came out, and water on the leaves and branches turned oaks and aspens into Christmas trees.

John Doe's Jeans

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In the panic following news of my motorcycle crash, my honey fled the house without coat or wallet, and now, nearly midnight, we don’t even have cab fare home.

The Echoes of Infinity

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Marilyn turned the kayak away from the target ship, barely visible after all these years, toward the shallow waters by the shore. She recalled her father holding her hand at low tide, as she looked up at him and he told her…