Stories tagged flash-fiction

deserts wept freely over you

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You had that quietness by nature (unusual in men) that I was attracted to. You were like some body of water, wide and more spiritual than anyone I knew. You could have taken me with you when you flew. I know you were more like a bird than any of the oth

"To Kill!"

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“What … is the purpose … of the bayonet?”

we were not deer

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The crescent moon lies with anyone (in case you wanted to know.) And the rain – as cheaply! I don’t think anyone knows this, when they are young. When you are young, very young, you want to be included in everything. “The young that the sea took, ki

A Dutiful Daughter

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The first indication I had of what I look like came when a man put me back on the rack, remarking that I was too pink. Over the weeks that followed, I gained a few more ideas about my appearance from the comments of people in the shop. My photographic side had been…

sing of my neck

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You could have drawn us forth anytime on the beach, harping, begging to be let go from the grasp of your song. I needed you to sing of my neck, with its ropes teeming and filled. You only had to spread me open and loosen the shuddering country, anytime.

Recruitment

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I saw the ad in my local paper: field sniper. I'd been laid off from the Wal-Mart in Orem. Brenda was ragging me about my target practice, scaring squirrels at the bird feeders. So, she said, go talk to this guy. Put yourself to some good use. We thought it…

and they are really living!

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These people, what is it with them? Is this who we’ve become? They left their great need behind when they were taken out of the country. They seem to live without thought of that blood. They do not respond to anything that calls to it. They seem sha

"Otterway"

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The car rolled four times before it ended in the ditch upright.

old soul

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It looks out at the world from behind a film. It does not participate. It is slow to love. There is the image, and they say they are in the world, but blood does not shake their hearts. They lie and take your soul when they smile. They imitate natur

Raging Life

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When I was imprisoned, I sat in pitch black, stared at the wall, waited for movies that never came.

Shim

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better than being dead

Urban, Convert

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I want to invite her into my apartment for coffee and hearty soup. But I’m afraid of this guy, his voice, his muscles, his tattoos, his t-shirts like blood-spattered inkblots.

they in that eternal room

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And while they sat and while we danced for them, they in that eternal room of theirs, illumined by late sunlight, or moonlight, (or the lamp in your bedroom,) our skin moistened with oils, glistening… each of us shining as we turned, emitting littl

whose soul do you have?

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Whose soul do you have, now? (How many are you?) There are several around here running from death, laughing, whom you might know. I burned ahead, with life. I found my own haughtiness had little bearing on the unbraided thread of pleasure (when I wa

Blood

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We decide not to go to the emergency room