Recommended stories

MYTHO-THERAPY ON THE BLINK

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Once upon a time, not so long ago in Los Angeles, Jack and Jill Woodman’s father remarried.

A Portraiture of Circling Back (or Why I Hate Fashist Assholes Like Mohandes Gandhi)

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"In the shit the dogs circle, talking of a dead bitch, maybe Merkel" - Michelangelo's poem of a stultified flower that never emulsifies, an orange California poppy of pink-gold drenched in urine and a horse in either burns bright whinnies and trollops neigh a pipping…

Effort

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For you – because you deserve more effort

It's Not Too Soon to Feel Crabby 'bout Christmas

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Call it Chanukkah, call it Kwanzaa Whatever the name, I just don’t wanzaa!

Bound

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“You have an impressive pair there,” he says, hands warm as he cups them. “Shame they’re on a man though.”

A Desperate Tweak

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I have two of those hand exercisers jamming the tray and keeping it locked in place

Condos Dumping Lawyers for Paramilitary Death Squads

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“Honorable condominium association members,” the leader begins. “I apologize for not having a PowerPoint slide show tonight, but me and my muchachos travel light.”

Family Leave

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I look at her really look we both know her time is fading "I'm just sad that you won't be there."

Condimental

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"Excuse me, ma'am? You wanted the mayonnaise on the side, right?"No one ever called her ma'am again.

Traumathurge

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From Berlin to Arcturus. I squeeze Sevigny’s wrist, wish Izzy could be here, but she’s melting salt in Utah. We were on our way to Los Angeles. I’ve booked the horror room.

The Humanists

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“She’s very sick. She’s dying,” and he smoothed my hair along my neck. “It’s leukemia. A very rare type,” his hand reached my shoulder and stopped there. “She only has a few months.”

LOVE IS NOT THE ONLY THING

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When I was a very little girl—I was five—my mother and a black gentleman she was incarcerated with broke out of a mental institution and kidnapped me.

It’s a compromising situation...

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It’s a compromising situation... The would be Bride of Christ begins perspiring before the crowd. Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring echoes through the antique church just one more time, a little loud. With every added verse and every flickering vigi

That's Unethical!

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My husband says you don’t have to tip the owner of an establishment, just employees. I never heard of that rule, and suspect it is another example of him just being cheap.

Hometown News: Newsprint Jesus (part 2)

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If Don’s story was one of faith carrying someone through his trials, the story of Randy Slafter is another. It was faith that brought him and his family to Johnstown 15 years ago. The wings of faith protected him from the dark angels of grief and tragedy

The Prince of Beers

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“All I want,” he was heard to say, “is a date with a really good-looking woman before I go away.”

Whither Butter Sculpture?

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Would we have been satisfied with a humble butter sculpture of a cow in 1960? Puh-lease! Would Parisians of the Impressionist era swoon over a big-eyed child picture?

Outré Souls (WIP)

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When the lore of the land could no longer hold the minds of men, they turned their eyes to places where they expected to find no other gaze.

Morning Night (1)

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Sunday Night She wasn't hungry, hadn't eaten for days, wouldn't even touch the food I took time off my fuckin' schedule to bring her myself. I walked through puddles of dirt and dog shit, I did. By the time she opened the door after four knocks, I was drenched,…

Drink Up Darling

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Darling Valentine’s pale legs shone in the dark, a beacon for the car driving without headlights along a tree-lined row of brownstones.

The Element of Ritual

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Nurse Smithers straightened Dr. Baumgartner’s feathered head dress. it had slipped down below the caduceus so carefully painted on his forehead by the medical ritual staff.

Morning Night (2,3,4)

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Monday MorningI wake slowly. My breath still escapes me. He's asleep on the sofa, legs hanging, hand hanging, lips hanging, a river of saliva somewhere. He tries to be the one that's okay when I'm not, but really he's just as bloody as I am. I wait til he starts to…

The Avenues Of Occupation And Other Short Stories

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A vanishing of something we never got to see. All we've been left with are impressions, imaginings

Smiles Etched Into Stone

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A section of the baseball field that curved inward was filled with clear water. Birds were dipping their feet and the tips of their wings in. The sun set them apart enhancing the ice-sharp oblivion in their eyes. I swore I heard them say "Marry me.

The way the sky was now

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I’d like to say we didn’t remember the Alamo, but one of ours had to piss. We ran into youknowwho and he was fighting Mexicans and it was so beautiful and there were fireworks, or else it was God’s wrath, or else it was the sky now.

Driving Over Front Lawns With You

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I remember we were just out riding around and drinking this one night (Andy, me, Shel, probably you and another girl) when I purposely drove up on someone’s big expensive front lawn, then back down into the street, and just kept driving without saying a

Heather.

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Gone Heather, with her hands in her hair, silent for help, over-involved now scared.

The Little Things

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Incredibly he began to picture in his mind a scene not related at all to his frenzied search but of a huge plate of apple pie a la mode with the vanilla ice cream melting in streams like cool lava down the side of the pie and off of the plate.

The Prison

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He sat uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair and his eyes glanced quickly from one face to the next. The room was small, contained only one window and felt as if it was encroaching on him. It was hard for him to discern what exactly was in the room unless he focused his…

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 18

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We all ran out of the house into the communal garden without fences. There stood Von Rotten with a smoking rifle in his hands, and our mascot Digger lying on his side, limp. We all looked at each other in disbelief.