Most recent stories

Drinking an Orange Julius While Listening to Pink Floyd

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I was strapped for cache

Anhedonia (excerpt 2)

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Crazy. I really hate when people use that word.

Marylou's Baccalaureate

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In between ketchup-covered fries, a Quarter Pounder, and a vanilla shake, catty comments, and lots of laughs, Marylou slipped in her announcement, a grenade in a rose garden. “I'm pregnant,” she said.

The Boy from Thuringia

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“The Boy from Thuringia” is part of a series of stories collectively called The History of Adoption. In it, a middle-aged man sets out rather obsessively to write a comprehensive history of the adopted child. In his attempts to finally begin this im

He Drank

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Excessively. And this worried her, of course.

White

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This is what it is to feel yourself forget.

FLY AWAY

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Why is the sky grey he asked meI don't know, I saysudden flashes of light snowbloat the cloudssea gulls are squawkingexpect them to peck at my headI have nothing to feed them

HEADLINES

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Warranties are what made America great, although hers has expired and the mailbox will remain empty for another fifteen days.

Our Terror Closet

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"Honey," I called out to my wife. "Why do we have Spam in the closet?" "You mean unsolicited bulk messages sent electronically?" "No--the canned, precooked meat product made by the Hormel Corporation."

Water, Water Everywhere

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Later I asked Mark if he wanted to watch, but his wife wouldn’t let him. She didn’t like kinky stuff, she said.

A Little Bird That Sings and Itches

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I guess it was a foregone conclusion that you would be gone at the end of the year. A foregone conclusion that you wouldn’t be coming back, and that after you began writing letters to Sharon saying what you would do to her when you did come back in th

Searching for Samuel Beckett

20172017 views4242 comments1818 favs

At the Cimitiere Montparnasse he offers the girl his raincoat. I'm searching for Samuel Beckett, he says, and holds an umbrella over her as she consults her map. We're close, she says, pointing. I'll go with you. Then we can visit Simone de Beauvoir. My name is Scarlet.…

Still Life (55 words)

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It wasn't so much the softness of the bed that kept her from sleep, or the pungent bleach-scent of the unfamiliar sheets, but the lack of her clock's familiar tick, tick, tick. Or was it a missing heartbeat? Awake, she watched his chest. On the table, an empty pill …

Flipper Avoids the Tuna Can

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I used to sneak away to my bedroom to write. I would get away any chance I could to jot down on paper my stories, my ideas, the rich stream of goodness that sprang from my little baby creative brain. It was pure joy.

Shenanigans 3 - Appreciation

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... if he planned to install them in their bedroom she would find them more than a little distracting.

William

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The sun browbeat me relentlessly, like a one-eyed judge with an unforgiving heart.

A Cormorant on Fort Point Channel

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I walk past World Shaving Headquarters, he surfaces again down where I turn to return to Summer Street and work, the daily bread and all that.

I Like You ‘Cause You Like Me

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And you don't like much. No handholding or brand name sweaters. No phone calls late at night. This is not you. And you certainly don't go for kisses in the rain or cards from the grocery store with…

Boredom & Ennui

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I had a weird feeling I had just validated his behavior — provided another tile in the mosaic of his ego and self-esteem — by doing nothing more than entering this hall of mirrors, and reflecting.

Mid - Loss

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Mid-Dawn//Mid-Dusk -- Wait for me.

The Secret Life

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When we were very young, we didn't tell because we didn't know any better. Now we are six, and we don't tell because no one has believed us since we told the story about the vampire upstairs. Now we're twelve, and we don't tell because our family's weird enough, living…

Initial doubts

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"Well, you certainly can't be marrying him then .. "

Event Particle

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Together they explore availabilities

Flying Into the Sun

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To answer your question, “Do you think you left your soul there?”… No, my soul isn’t floating around in your bedroom anymore… you took it with you when you walked out my door for the last time. Well, maybe there’s still just a little

Tomcat

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And, if you look real close, you see there’s a bullet hole next to his left ear. A stray one went past his head and straight through Santa’s heart.

Cost

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I rifled through the bedside table until I found dirty magazines

Stimulating the Dead

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“So–you can get a stimulus check even if you’re dead?” I asked. “hell man–in chicago you can vote if you’re dead. i’ve tried to stay active politically.”

birdbrain

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feathered flightless freak of nature

If You See Something, Say Something

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You think there’s a chance the bag could be holding a severed head, or live or dead kittens.

First

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“I can’t believe you went ahead and got pregnant without me,” I said.