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Winyah Bay

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Effie reckons the river her sister keeps asking about, the Great Pee Dee, was named after some Indians.

December Can Feel Like April Here

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Today the isobars are far apart.

Gulf War

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Someone's ass should be kicked.

Dilemma

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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…

Hysteria

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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…

God Bless You, Mr. Rinsewater

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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!

A Knobby Thing

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She feels ugly but ready for anything.

Retire! Dance! Die! But First, Pass the Chocolate. Boomers According to Google.

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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…

Snapshot

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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.

End of Shift

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He was losing his fight with malaria, but you would never know it from his dreams

Freedom

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I was seeing the owl lady from time to time when I met Caroline.

Mall Flower

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I’ve blown out my shag haircut and it’s big. BIG-big.

Bliss

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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.

Unintended Consequences

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...you pile into your Mercury and barrel down the street, the air smells like sea, the night goes forever...

Secrets

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The one he liked best was a middle aged woman who didn't wear underwear. She had a terrific figure.

October

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For a few/ vivid weeks, deciduous shrubs and trees/ will seem to glow like flames and embers

The Gospel According to Teeny

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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.

Everything I Have Is Broken

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My mother’s old china no longer reflects. It’s value is now estimated as drywall.

Sex & Love Addicts Anonymous

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Liz spied the box of Kleenex right away. She sat down at the chair closest to the Kleenex.

The Street to Here

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poem

The Innocence of Age

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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

Physicist in love

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He saw symmetry, exquisite geometry, body and built world in harmony.

Lawyer Doctor

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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.

Just Wondrin'

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Ever had the occasion to wake up look at your watch and see it's five-thirty in the morning — after sleeping on the couch all night? Ever then gone to take a leak, trudged down the hall, cracked your bedroom door to check on your wife and found a portly, balding man…

How To Profit As Copper Becomes The New Gold

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We have no more leaders, only rulers who live in another country. I don't ask why my cousin's hand is bandaged, what he's been burning, what's tarped in his truck.

Out of Stardust

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Nor woke, as always, to a dark room smelling of the lavender she kept in little bottles to perfume the otherwise stank air. Outside, she could still see the edge of the moon hanging there like a lopsided smile. The early summer wind blew in and stirred the faded floral…

Outfit

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Momma called them Vaughens, "a outfit," and said, "they shoulda throwed the book at that Darla Jean."

Notes of a Questionable Writer

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Once upon a time I was definitely a writer. I told tales everywhere and even wrote them down. Every one was a fabrication woven around a morsel of truth. Many accused me of putting them in my tales and ruining their reputations.…

Repatriation

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When he woke he carried the body of a cat instead of a man. Next to him his cat dreamed it had a human body.

She lets her intentions guide her

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“If 'neighbor' applies to women who covet—'deliriously desire'—husbands from Angers, then one day he'll be your husband's neighbor," I say.