Stories tagged fiction

Hotel Chelsea - Scene 5

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In front of a museum he arises from nameless sleep with only his vision gristling his body ...

Beach Bod

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Still perky, still firm, I clench my ass muscles and make my way to the water...

I Beat Myself at Chess (revised)

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There we sat, myself and I, at a small folding table in the middle of the lab beside the main, l-shaped workbench. The lab was empty - always was - except for the two of us.

The Color of Silence is Radium Green

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Beside Lorraine, her faithful husband held the knitted booties once intended for their stillborn babies, and beneath these was a box of Lorraine’s missing teeth, which rattled as the pair walked up the aisle.

Flight

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Her beak—an angular void in the center...

12:00 Somewhere

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"Time really flies.” “I thought that was only when you were having fun,” he said. “Don’t be an asshole.”

Unfit II

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What she had done for him was magical in his mind. She had reawakened the woman inside him, adding to the completion of his being.

An Artist is Born

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she walks up to the lake of spiraled colors, yellow and green ...

Book Killer

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Sometimes after bookbinding for a few hours at the hand-sewing table, Jillie would, after scraping her knife too roughly over the glue of an old book's spine, feel not like a resurrector of literature, as she should, but a killer. Not a calculating or

Josephine Skinny Jeans: Chapter 2

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Sometimes I have really violent dreams where I smash Libby’s face in with a liquor bottle, a brick, a mounted boar’s head... really whatever my brain makes available to me. I always wake up satisfied.

Josephine Skinny Jeans: Chapter 3

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It's possible I was having an acid flashback or some kind of semi-conscious when I opened the door of #3.

Josephine Skinny Jeans: Chapter 4

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They gave Lee a bunch of morphine in the ambulance and he came to vaguely, murmuring shit about God and mermaids.

The Listening Place

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I’m stretched out beneath the table watching her feet rub together like another pair of fussing hands.

Minerva Gets Pierced by Love

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Minerva one night had a change of plans, for Mr. Wright knocked on her door in the form of a potbellied perv with a Vaseline mustache.

Hotel Chelsea - Intercut 1

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In Washington Square Park in the center of the fountain and cupped by delusion he whirls and turns shirtless