Stories tagged flash-fiction

An Admirer Visits Paul Bowles

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I dropped out of college and flipped a coin, a 1929 half-dollar, and decided if heads, suicide. If tails, a life of perpetual travel.

Respect the Dead

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Joe grabbed the camera from the asphalt, inches from the woman’s lifeless fingers, pocketed it.

Secrets; Opening to "Woolgathering"

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Some of us, however, turn our secrets over in our souls, churning them with the fury of the howling winds of a January night. They are eroded and shaped and fine-tuned with the precision of a jeweler; the deeper and darker they are, the more brilliant of

Little Bastard

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Upending Charlie, who for the first time in his life started screaming, she dunked him into the toilet head-first and worked him up and down like a plunger. “You like sticking your face in piss, do you? Well, get a good mouthful,” she snarled.

The first sense of desire

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I want to own you, even if it is only for a few moments or a few hours, but it will not be worth it unless for that brief span of time I know that the only purpose of your existence is to be a woman whom I own.

Pitt Bull

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I figured out where you keep your valuables, he says, twisting his lips up. Looking at my exposed stomach.

What I Have Been Doing Since I Was Last with You (Revised)

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After dinner, we drink Vietnamese coffee, so black and sweet, it lays warm on our insides like liquid chocolate. After coffee, in a daydream-drenched silence, I watch him smoke a cigarette.

Juliana the Vampire

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Juliana was a beautiful graduate student to begin with, but when Alex made her a vampire, she became a knockout to die for.

Codeine dreams of Texas and other stuff

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We shot through Texas like a couple of comets in a souped-up Chevrolet, crossed the Mississippi, and robbed a bank in Baton Rouge.

Ciara's Cloud

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Ciara feels the movement grow within her like a balance that she dare not trust because despite her parents' fury, Frankie's flight and rancid words spewed from tight‑lipped mouths, her baby lives.

Music That Tastes Like Blood

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It is your music that makes me want to crack open my ribcage and rip out my heart as it still beats, to cauterize my carotids, and shove the mechanical insides of a clock into my thoracic cavity.

Forbidden Music

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There are songs I know to not listen to when I am alone.

Wet

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He laid out on a pool float in the blue sparkling water, wearing sunglasses, pretending he was Benjamin Braddock.

Birth and Death of a Concrete Icon

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Homer relaxes in his tan, faded recliner, remote in hand, and watches death unfold on his television.

Countdown

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Since she had learned to count, she couldn’t stop.