Stories tagged death

Printer

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The cool taste of menthol filled his lungs, burning him from the inside. He didn't mind.

sixteen magpies

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Sixteen magpies patrolled the patch of grass behind the house, splitting the soil with their shiny beaks and siphoning earthworms from the wet earth. Your blood and bile suctioned into waste receptacles, your sallow skin pitted and bluing as the sun made

Living Through Fuzzy

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They politely urged him not to get too involved with his creations.

The Last Day

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Sometimes I just feel old. Thankfully, with the robotic eye implants and the artificial skin transfer, I don't look old.

Trees

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years later, she won’t go near the trees

The Penny

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The guilt was removed with the stress of fleeing, the penny burning into her palm as she clutched the only piece of evidence.

Every Death Is A Murder

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EVERY DEATH IS A MURDER Dear maggots: I hope you enjoy the chewing of flesh. Is 54 years difficult to swallow? My memories are stuck in your stomach making you behave like me. Pretty funny for a bug. What if you decide to become a…

Hattie Hanratty Does the Previously Unthinkable

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"Hattie? What are you doing?" Bosley asked, the quaver in his voice an indication of an impending erection.

Business As Usual

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A fly flew around the dining room, teased by the stagnant scent of yesterday's pork roast and fried zucchini.

The Death App

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The phone owner pre-writes his or her dying words! The app stores them and releases them at the moment of his death!

Dreamland

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Damien, my boyfriend, talks me back to sleep when I wake up in the middle of the night, he doesn't judge me for being afraid of the dark, or being lost at sea, he simply listens to me breathlessly explaining why I'm awake— again— at 3:32 in the…

For The Raven

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What’s left to do, but ride shotgun on the passenger side & remark upon incidental points of interest along the way?

Walls

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No one would have picked me out of a crowd as the morbid one, but it was true that thoughts of easy exits floated through my consciousness regularly. I did my research—the easy methods, painless, guaranteed methods—and felt prepared to do, well, w

O Fortuna

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She stares at the grinning death’s head in front of her, inviting her to make a deal. Any deal. She looks up and around the casino floor. She is in the center of the maze and there are no exits.

When I Asked You to Sing at My Funeral

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It's because poetry would not do because the fireflies were alive that night, aflame