Stories tagged fiction

After Bukowski

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The night she left she claimed she fucked Bukowski.

Destiny Knocking - 2

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. . . why did it take so long?

Unpleated

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What was happening to me? If my guy friends saw me, I'd never bowl again, never play in a softball league in this town again and no gym in the tri-county area would have me aside from the frou-frou ones downtown. I'd be a disgrace.

Well Water

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He imagined what it would be like to crawl into one of the widening cracks.

Confetti

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The vision fades, and love cannot see, then goes the touch; love cannot feel. Love loses its hearing and love hides. It's a weakening, a dissolution back into the source. Love dissolves into hope, and hope is a dangerous, reckless thing.

The Cougar

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How freeing to writhe under someone with more muscles than fat, who could keep it up longer than minute, who afterwards stroked my hair and if he noticed the fine silver strands by my ears didn’t mention them. I forget his name...

A Tale of Two Writers

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A famous author and an inspired writer meet at a coffee shop, both looking for inspiration. The patrons there don’t know if this meeting is by accident or design, but they are in awe of Fame.

Pieces

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I find my mother’s pink Pyrex mixing bowl at the antique store on Fairview Avenue. It’s in the hands of a fat woman in a blue down parka, and she’s holding it upside down, squinting at the sticker on the bottom.

Sweet Dreams

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But tonight the circus is dark. She is free to go to her lover, to embrace, to float in the night sky.

Shoot first

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So I shot him. Right in the bollocks, though I doubt he felt it. I’m always open to being wrong, though.

Truffle Socks

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Imagine instead the skater's lean feat, the toes which, honestly, may represent 25% of the entire length. The superb way she slips them into the boots. They smell like truffles.

"A Death by the Sea" (excerpt)

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Then a flicker caught my eye. To the left of the balcony, where the residential high-rise abutted a commercial building to its right, a shape--half-dark, half-lit--stood on a limestone ledge.

Berthier Door

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On Day 1122 at 4:14 AM the door which has remained since installation firmly glued to the masonry behind opens and a man emerges blinking shielding his eyes against fine stinging snow.

Oliver Pratt

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We lingered there in that room for a few moments, stuck in the awkward goo of rejection and regret. At some point, I’m not sure when, I left, found a bathroom down the hall and washed my ear.

Coffee

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He picked up a pack of cigarettes and shook it. He flipped the lid to confirm there were none left.