Stories tagged flash-fiction

She's Butoh (ELECTRIC DELIRIUM 1.4)

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She overcomes herself on the day of the spectacle, clown paint, unmoving amid a rumble of trains and screens, video logs and snapshots, live blogs from phones wet with lotion. This is Tokyo. Facial masks. Bare flaking paint in streams. Stardust.

Poison

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The High Priest Psychiatrist at Orwellian Industries Medical Center where I used to work loved to hear himself say the following, to my horror, at every staff meeting: "We psychiatrists prescribe the poisons to the patients and the…

Electric Delirium (ELECTRIC DELIRIUM 1.5)

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Rose, silence her desire when she, in this moment of desire, has passed into the grey and dawdles in the margins of such a hurtful unconventionality. Bend her astray from such a becoming. It would be a horror show: intimate, endless, and bloody, just the

Biking Into Darkness

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Andy leaned down and smacked her lightly on the face. She didn't wake. She also seemed too young for the situation she was in.

Liberty Call

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In the dawn, you try to remember

Ah-dultery

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When she leaned over me to stub out her cigarette in an ashtray, I kissed her gently on the neck. Her neck was so long and slender, like the rest of her body, as if she’d been a model before her marriage and her three kids. All boys, 5, 7, and 9, I think.

Circus-thrust the Night Copier (ELECTRIC DELIRIUM 1.6)

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Her fever spreads through lines of a plaid mini, over burnt milk, darkened to yellow. Fingers explore fabric folds up and into the lost dimensions of logic.

stop bullying racists

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Everyone wants to feel like the world has lined up against them and any achievement they have been able to attain was done despite the best efforts of everyone who isn't them. That's a given. But there is one group of people who seem to have a point.

The Horticulturalists

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On witnessing the community of harvest, and the weird orange of the dirt roads, the gridded stretch of farm meeting forest, the soft barrel-shapes found in the fields and barns and clouds alike, the animal scents trailing off the free-roaming herds, and t

Abject Horror of Objects (ELECTRIC DELIRIUM 1.8)

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Rosey streaks through the city, dragging a flooded umbrella.

The Light at the End of You

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I'm reading your remains.

Blood and Rain

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There's no rain--there hasn't been rain in weeks--but the clouds are dark without the sun, and I can't see the stars.

Considering the Mailman

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It’s not just the mailman. It’s the logo on the mailbox down the street. It’s the uniform. It’s any man or woman in the whole unsettling profession.

Gilly's Juke Joint

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I knew Gilly Dunkle three times in my life. Twice he died, and the final time I checked out before him.

Presage

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I am calling to tell you what’s going to happen tomorrow.