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1. The Walking Heart Attack Man has two outfits. In the summer he dresses in a short sleeve checkered button down shirt and high waisted Bermuda shorts with sandals. In the winter he wears dark pants and loafers with a gray corduroy coat…
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This is why people go into work one day with a shotgun. This is why people turn to the masses and drink Kool-Aid. This is one of the reasons behind Chuck Palahnuik’s conceptualization of Project Mayhem.
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“Maybe she will like Boo-Ba-Loo, the large male from America,” they said. So they shipped in Boo-Ba-Loo and put him in the pen next to Ding-a-Ling.
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Bardan O'Connor stared at himself in the mirror but didn't recognize the image before him. He was pale and looked like death. He tried to psyche himself up for the latest show with a shot of Irish whiskey. He slapped himself hard in the face. "Get it together man." The…
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Neighbors trade novels
through windows
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Despite the newly bright bricks and the working clock, Cassie couldn't help but take a deep breath before entering King Street Station. She had always tried to hold her breath when her family cut through it on the way to Mariners games but had never succeeded, not…
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lucy had simply taken a kitchen knife and removed the outer layer, the layer of things people notice
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The muster zone was south of U.S. 119, off the Halleck Road. The search began on a large parcel, some 75 acres of farmland, property of one Mr. Shakelford. Shakelford had allowed the earth to go wild; brush, thistle and small…
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1. On the morning of her eighteenth birthday, Eve woke to find herself transformed into a gigantic chess piece made of zeros and ones.2. Eve gazed so long at her smartphone that she found herself falling into it.3. She fell for a time that may have been short or long or…
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Our flesh was on fire like a flute with wind, or a little reed next to the dried river. I was like a voyeur whose heart was a sponge, brushing up against all that disturbed man. I was only and ever the flower of our notorious youth, aware of more than the
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Tucker walked the long and lonely stretch of highway in front of him. The loneliness didn't matter; he had his own way of handling that feeling. The walking, however, was wearing away at his mind. How…
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. . . hands before your face, heart without blood . . .
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The damaged sky is not more black than your hair,
Ashen tonight and floating over the land in blackened
Smoke, where the furrows run with milk light
Or snow, blue and white, and the world-ash floats.
Your patient body sleeps and the white pain
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"chemical", love is/as long as saccharine is/served in coffees sweet . . .
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There is no love triangle more tangled than that which snares a pet, its owner and an amorous veterinarian.
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The air has its dark confessional, and I have mine. Hot is called raw by some, hate mixed with malice for others. I am only separated by this dark window of time from you, but you never feared the lovely or the lonely.
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Remember me? I am the large, dented acorn you threw at your brother, Ken, during the huge acorn war of 1969. You were thirteen. He was eleven. And the entire neighborhood was in your backyard that day. Steve, Jack, Jerry, Tom, Dan, Jeff, Drew. A bunch of the kids…
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Francesco tried to fix Oriana's face in his mind as he blindly walked to the taxi queue.
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It was night. It was Massachusetts. It was an interview in a snowstorm
that Detective Vivian Diaz wished would go away.
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Now you are a raving bare-forked fool madman with nothing.
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It’s hard to lose. Harder than you think. I guess the ultimate question is: If I had to give up one thing, my dog, or hazelnut gelato, which would it be? I’ll tell you, between those two, it would have been easy to choose. But losing you, that was a who
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I’m squatting naked over the hand mirror, feet cold on the terrazzo floor, looking at my winking arsehole.
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Ben was cheered to see Monique in good spirits again.
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A man alone in his paid-for living room, with his hands folded behind his head.
A man running from a bar, a bald man seen from behind.
Someone who made a wide circle to avoid your laughter.
A man undressing at the side of the road saying: “How y
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The white moon is dangling
by a thread tonight.
I close my eyes
and listen to it undress.
Your halo fell around your ankles
and you became see-through,
but there’s a vast gulf between being pretty,
and pretty dangerous.
Still, I’ve s
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Fate could have sent me any number of Sergeant-Detectives, but fate sent me one of Boston’s finest, Sergeant-Detective Sheila Magnuson. Aside from being a little undernourished Sheila Magnuson is possibly the world’s most beautiful Sergeant-Detective.
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You sleep. The time is soft and slow.
Your dreams are covered with the snow.
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TW: Self-harm. I wanted to write a mental health essay that wasn't all rah! rah! and with as little sentimentality as possible. Out of everything I've published, I've gotten the most feedback from this--people telling me it helped them understand a loved one better, etc.…
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Abigail dragged the monkey Nathanial, her favorite plush toy, in the red dust as her parents moved crummy looking cardboard boxes from the house into the back of the custard colored Winnebago. This wasn't the first time she had ever seen a Winnebago; her friend…
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