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Today I'm feeling fertilized by an egg—
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and dreamed itself infinite.
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When we would leave her place I never had a firm idea where I was taking her except I knew - and she knew - that eventually we'd end up back at my place. We did this a lot when her husband, Mack, was out of town. Every couple of weeks his job took him to…
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We can apprehend beauty only/
by framing it with the photographic/
paper’s edge or the novel’s margins/
and bookends.
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Early Spring, 1075, Northumbria: Judith, too ashamed to speak, too angry to cry, waves her handmaiden away. She wants no food. Wind drives icy rain across the thickness of…
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Go to your room. Children are meant to be seen not heard.
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The sign that informs tourists that there is
no access to the Hollywood Sign is the
most ignored sign in all of Los Angeles.
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Effie reckons the river her sister keeps asking about, the Great Pee Dee, was named after some Indians.
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Today the isobars are far apart.
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Someone's ass should be kicked.
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Myrna came home from her new, midnight shift, waitressing job at the Waffle House saying she was sorry but she couldn't take any more gray-haired Jesus-types with their dollar bills held high, releasing a few so they would flutter, as if borne by wings, onto the tables as…
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On the birthday before he started school, he received a pencil case from his paternal grandparents. The violet, oblong pouch contained a pencil and a pencil sharpener in the same color. He didn't remember what had happened with the pencil or the sharpener, but he had…
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Once upon a time, on March 8, 2011, to be exact, there was a flash fiction writer named Rinsewater who had a novel idea – flash fiction writers whose stories were published by indie lit magazines must be paid for their work!
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She feels ugly but ready for anything.
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Born in 1954, I identify as a Baby Boomer. But what does that mean, really? Who exactly are we Boomers? And how does the world see us? I decided to perform a quick Google Search and find out. I typed in the phrase “Boomers Are…” Here's…
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Behind them all, in the background, a tray of vodka tonics waits on a glass table, the limes losing color as they drown.
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He was losing his fight with
malaria, but you would never
know it from his dreams
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I was seeing the owl lady from time to time when I met Caroline.
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I’ve blown out my shag haircut
and it’s big.
BIG-big.
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When he got out of sick bay, they moved him into a room with three other alkies. A kid, a tree trimmer, and a Catholic priest.
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...you pile into your Mercury and barrel down the street, the air smells like sea, the night goes forever...
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The one he liked best was a middle aged woman who didn't wear underwear. She had a terrific figure.
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For a few/
vivid weeks, deciduous shrubs and trees/
will seem to glow like flames and embers
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Then I heard it -- a sound like an oboe being strangled. Teeny was farting onto the cement stoop through her jeans, a tripple flutter blast.
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My mother’s old china no longer reflects. It’s value is now estimated as drywall.
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Liz spied the box of Kleenex right away. She sat down at the chair closest to the Kleenex.
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“I want to show you something pretty.”
She looked at me, chin on her chest, watery brown eyes looking up. Skin tags on her eyelids made it difficult for her to look as coquettish as she wanted. She tried to flutter what was left of her eyelashes, but syr
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He saw symmetry, exquisite geometry, body and built world in harmony.
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When we're near, there is a black cloud, such as Sylvia Plath described in her unabridged journal, that semi-appeared in her rental cottage where she and Ted Hughes lived in Cornwall. The cloud filled the center of the room where she sat alone.
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