Most recent stories

I Don't Know How the Nights Can Be So Long When Life Is So Short

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The tall, standing woman with bright red lipstick, elegant at one time, you could tell, responding, “She has dementia,” pointing at her brain. “She was a Holocaust survivor.” And the one they’re talking about turns as she’s pushing her wal

Babbling

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She’s gotten more involved in the game with menopause.

Worry

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I turned on the television last night, and one of the networks had a segment about a girl with no nose.

Augustinian Prayer Sonnet

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He kissed her tits and thought of art

Rough Cut

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He bites and imagines, numbed by want.

Godot, Go Wait Yourself!

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a bone-crusher handshake

Nexxus Products Company

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I think fat will just appear, like a narcotics cop at my door, or something.

Nora and Paul at the Coffeeshop

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The woman tapped a dark plastic stirrer on the tabletop in front of her to emphasize something she was saying.

Lights,Camera -Action

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Gyan Ban Thoughts - This post is about aspiring models.Scores of these dreams get killed everyday under the arc lights. Exploitation is rampant and millions of cases go unreported.This story is of one such incident.

Because the night

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I glance back over my shoulder as you fumble with the keys. Repeatedly. You swear a little under your breath. You finally locate the proper one and the large door swings open. I hold it as you run over to the alarm keypad. You punch in the code written on a…

In The Lake

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She says, “Put it there now.”

Buzz

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Why is this woman smiling? Because she’s the Real Mona Lisa, that’s why

The Martyr

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She sees her mother the Sunday after Zoe discovered her seven-week-old creation, like a chewed gingerbread man with red icing, in the toilet bowl beneath her.

LOST LOVE

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*It is a purely fictitious story.Any resemblance to it is purely coincidental. “You never realize death until you realise love “ I could not understand this quote until I met her. Yes! There is death because love gives…

Postman

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About 10 years ago is when it started. I was 14, sitting at Pop's knee, listening to his stories, and Mom came in crying. She could hardly get words out. I think that day was the last time I felt the sun.

Your Old Untrue Love

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This is how we catch up. I write something down, and you read me quietly. In a year's time you will remind me, though I would have forgotten. I check to see if maybe you have put up a new song, every once in a while, but you don't sing as well as you used to.What has…

Dungeon

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why were ghosts in wry mirrors feeding on hope?

A Look In the Mirror

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...That flash of horror as well as the lie that replaced it were mirrors of sorts and both told the truth.

BY THE BEACH

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(wc) 55 words, exact.

Prom Date

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The dump smelled of the chaos of creation, of rusting metal and burned glass, chemicals and rancid rainwater, wet cardboard and rotting wood, paint slaking off clapboards and drums.

Dream Eater

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I began to feed him. All the things I could think of - horror movies, cheese, salt, pickles, chilli. Vitamin B6 tablets washed down with warm milk. Anything I could do to grow little nightmares for my new pet.

The Home

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They take her cookies they take her Coke they take her Kleenex the whole box not the used ones They take, they steal everything They’d take the brain out of an ox if they could Diamonds they steal bars of soap as long as they

There's a Hole in Your Shoe, Mr. Stevenson

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On a night in 1952 he walked her home in the freezing rain, past the nativity in front of St. Mark's, sharing his flask of schnapps. Look, my fingers are prunes, she said. He kissed her hands and said, Let's name our firstborn Adlai. She laughed and said, No. Dwight.…

Reaction

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Fingers of angry red welts crossed his face and neck.

Scent of a Woman - 55 word story

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She slipped into a silky sheath dress, and stepped into black sequined heels just as the doorbell rang. Her date had arrived to take her to his much touted Art opening in town. Reaching under the bathroom sink for a final mist of hair spray she realized too late…

Shade to Shade

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Cathy told the boy to sit in the seat behind her, and gave him her scarf for his face. He nodded and plucked the scarf gingerly from her hands, suspending it between the clean thumb and ring finger on his left hand.

Limboland

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She was a forward-motion girl. She never bothered to learn to walk as a baby. Instead, she stood up and ran.

Upstream

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But home won.

Child's Play Brings Back Memories of Busted Heads for Greying Protestor

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"My boy Jake fell in with a bad crowd when he went to college," Coffelt says, shaking his head. "A bunch of accounting majors."

Primary Creative

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French citizens. The friends were all citizens of a half-assed France. The friends were all half-assed citizens of a French stance. Carol was more American, more eggnog, more cream-of-wheat. She represented dull victory.