109100
|
oh, sure i’m still running around like a heads-up/off/prophet/profit/fit trying to cut off my very own de/(con)instruction and all other sordid a•void•able & available/a-Babel towers of post &toastmodern doom/daze
|
127300
|
He was arrested for a horrible crime. It took more than three weeks to identify the body. The newspapers were vague so as not to terrify anyone. He hung his head low as he pled guilty.
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1399129
|
Wake up! But it was already too late for Charles.
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132974
|
The investigator starts by accumulating facts, as many facts as he can. He sifts through them with meticulous precision, leaving no leaf unturned, no page unread.
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132300
|
The corpse lay silently in his open casket. Dressed in the finest silken suit. Italian. Rubber skin pulled over his bones. Arms folded in eternal prayer.
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113711
|
We brought flowers for our dead lovers
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143400
|
Staring at her horribly disfigured face, I envied her.
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125800
|
Still as the knife on the counter there still. Like mothballs in a chest. One with clear bags and newspaper clippings and your scarf inside it. The baby girl could put a mothball in her mouth and suck it like a penny. The way too close to a light bulb bur
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122521
|
I can't rememberI woke up in the hotel room lying on the double bed staring at the ceiling. The room was painted white with one window, overlooking a brick wall, shut tight so I couldn't open it. The door leading to the outside looked appealing so I got up out…
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131073
|
I, the energies moving through this body, in this particular parallel reality in this multiverse, am standing out in the middle of the night, under only stars, and surrounded by the soft, organic shapes of a tree line.
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3600
|
|
187143
|
1. If anybody tells you that this story isn't true they are lying. It is a true story; I am lying if it isn't, and I don't lie. It's the story of me, Ms. Emma Wakeling and the Winter I was holed up with her and her two girls, Noranbole and Urine. What a Winter! It…
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2722310
|
Joyce never worked for me. none of it.
|
22000
|
A lifetime is not enough to learn, owned the cow; others drank the milk, classical masks. Their response: “hold in your hands.” “Evil exists.” Truth is not the secret of a few.
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82400
|
A gurgle of sugar on bark-splotch or blips. A mess: blueprints, radar, or wrench. Lips swell neon blood. So much spit, the lunar tremors. Manipulated, blur flutter flicks. To lungs: choke on scraps of metal, lumber, nuclear. Stir the embers. She's a bone bath for…
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