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Jon Bon Joviettes: A Love Letter to the Bistro

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"Oh, sit on my face oh won't you? Your velvety wetness would provide a nice counterpoint to the upholstery of the sofa-matching easy chair, crummy but that's the charm of this hipster-ironic dive playing 80's crap so I have to cram your music in my…

Arcana Magi Memorial - c.4

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Azure walked through the fog as though she were walking to class. Her hands swayed through the mist and felt the thickness of the cloud through her fingers

Limits on Lint-Rollers Tighten as Illicit Use Spreads

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The latest teen abuse of an ordinary household item? Late-night “lint roller” parties at which boys and girls engage in heavy “feel-up” sessions that can lead to unwanted pregnancies, white slavery and in extreme cases, marriage.

Panorama

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Ben tossed the newspaper aside, muttering. Carol, curled up on the sofa, peered past the glasses at the tip of her nose and past the crossword puzzle. "What?" "The Brits wanted to fight rather than be taken hostage. They had an escort boat ridin

Beneath the Light of an Exploding City

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Under the darkness of their new city. The heave and moan of structures as they breathed and pulsed. Under the darkness of this city, under the hum of their florescent bulbs and the tumbling rattle of motorcars, the wheeze of their machines and the clank o

Five

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". . . with the impact of a 18-wheeler jack-knifed into a Mini-Cooper as it hits the surface."

The Last Days of Summer

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Their laughter is of a tiny world that knows nothing of taxes or lost loves, or news reports of flag-draped coffins filled with limbs.

Getting Sideways On Douglas

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Under the dirty orange glow of sodium streetlights, the glistening pavement looks slick, but it’s only just wet. The mid-November temperature is cool—quite mild, actually, for this late time of year—still hovering in the upper 30s—so far posing only the

Sunny And 78

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Tombstone is a tongue of stone in the mouth of the desert. The desert is a living entity. It speaks. It speaks with a tongue of stone. It says: Tombstone.

Things that blow up

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For as long as John could remember, he loved to blow up things. It started back in grade school with firecrackers and cherry bombs—he would put them in toys, tin cans, shit like that to see what would happen. Then he advanced to stronger stuff, M-80s. Skip and…

I am, I am not.

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I am— a plan in progress. I am motion in motion, a direction headed in the right direction by way of an off beaten trail of misdirection.

A Girl You Couldn't Hurt

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He started to concentrate on the music again. It was the album with the crazy picture of Monk on the cover, with a machine gun over his shoulder, a tied-up Gestapo officer and a female resistance fighter standing next to—a cow.

77 Words About Nothing (Sundays)

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Sunday nights weren't massive. They were Sunday mornings that remained.

Left for Dead

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Bobby slowly raised his head above the emerald green stalks of rice and looked up and down the paddy for any sign of the men who had been crossing it with him, when the shell exploded. Movement out of the corner of his eye sent him face down in the muck a

Forgiveness

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Inside a restroom stall, Herbert Casey Jr. took a soggy roll of cash from his boot and placed a quarter of the wet bills into his wallet. He divided the rest into the three empty pockets of his blue jeans.

by the sound of it

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cicadas run our furnace

I Found Myself in Waters

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Unready for the world, we pawned ourselves for a longer lease on youth.

I Follow

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Her shoes, left uninhibited below, seem sad but understanding, and she is so in love with something, which makes me so in love with the idea of her.

nothing special on a night in february

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as i stepped out to cross west 163rd, the grey, icy sludge in the road looked almost like ballpark mustard illuminated by the streetlights, and it felt like walking through a recently emptied movie theater.

MOTHER MOUSE AND HER BRATS

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Oh, you aren't going to lecture us, for heaven's sake?

Post-Revolutionary Sports Boredom

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It isn’t easy being the #1 Jewish lesbian revolutionary bank robber in America–every Rebecca and Rachel who comes down the pike tries to knock you off.

Who you pretended to be

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Who You Pretended To Be I only appeared to belong to my mother --Jane Kenyon I almost died when Ulysses sailed leaving behind the dowager queen complaining of processed sugar as Grandfather's limousine tooled to Saks to browse brassieres…

Arcana Magi Behind the Scenes: Character Sheets

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A behind the scenes look at the character designs of the Arcana Magi Universe.

5th and Washington

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“This horrible street. I hate this neighborhood,” she cursed.

Abject Horror of Objects (ELECTRIC DELIRIUM 1.8)

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Rosey streaks through the city, dragging a flooded umbrella.

Arcana Magi Pure Vol.7 - c.2

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Mayumi and Rumiko stood at the top of a hill into stone forest, with the town in view from a distance. The mist made a single path, safe for everyone to travel through. In the town, there were lights flickering everywhere, some areas in total darkness.

Ego with Toupée

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[WE'LL LET *YOU* BE THE JUDGE!]

Love Las Muertas

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a dozen girls with Encarnación's face flit past, whispering kisses along the part of my hair, tickling their hems along the cuticles of my nails.

The Woman from Mecca

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We trade broken phrases of English, Arabic...

My Girl

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I like you,But I don'tLove youAnd that bitchDon't love youEitherWhy don't you loveMe?I only love my sonWhat do you hate About me?I hate your nervousnessLack of confidence,I hate your glasses,U asked too many QuestionsReally?Yeah, reallyWhat do like about me?I like…