Stories tagged flash-fiction

Horny Pigeon

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My best friend and I are sitting on her daybed watching her sister dance with my boyfriend.  Her sister's shaking her ass in front of his crotch and he's going along like he's got no choice, twisting his hips and flapping his arms like a horny pigeon.  

White Lies

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On these days, while Momma counts the money, we go to Blockbuster where we can pick a movie each, play on the playground at McDonalds, lick tall ice cream cones.

Ravenous Dumpsters

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The dumpsters kept coming, ravenous in the mornings and gorged on failure in the evenings.

Spinning Walt Whitman

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In San Francisco, there rides at night a phantom streetcar whose driver is none other than Walt Whitman . . .

women at the bar

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“First I had two men in my life,” she says. “Now I have no men in my life.” And I watch her adjusting a strap to keep her shoulder bare. It’s the aspiration of flesh to beauty that is keeping us alive. Cool and warm pastels above her bare arm, warm red

Retribution

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The couch was soft and encouraged recollection; Johnson faced upward and also his past.

let us be thankful

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My mother pulled me aside and observed that I was more cheerful than in years past — even my grandmother had noticed it — but she hadn't caught me stealing off to the pint of Tennessee whiskey I had stashed in the study. Probably because she was…

life got bigger

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The soul is hidden in the eyes, and they keep history there, not emotion, which passes in the night. And I am alone in passion. Otherwise, chaos! But when you smiled, life got bigger. I remember this! I am watching myself, my life, as in a dark mirr

The Woodsman

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In winter The Woods sleeps and the Woodsman comes. He collects the dead wood and makes coal. He nurses the injured animals and prepares the dying. He distributes the snow and regulates the temperature. In his fur hat…

it's not your fault

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The bay window where she sat in the morning and wrote. The herb garden she had planted one summer outside the kitchen window. The landing where she had lain, viciously twisted, for two hours before he came home from the office and found her.

Things That Were Never Built

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Do me a favor: Listen to me. I don’t ask for much.

otherwise, chaos!

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The tongue touches the lip, looking inward, remembering. The head nodding yes. Staring directly at the memory like an animal, while the crowds pass by, and occasional phrases materialize out of the air. We live and love and create. Yes we do. Otherwise,

carbon dating

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I became infamous, in certain circles, for what I achieved, maybe more so for what I did not. I invented a dating service for seniors called “Carbon Dating.” I wrote a book called “What Real Estate Did for Me,” which was very brief and to the point. It

Headstone III

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My only brother. Frantic flesh clings to bone.

No Soul

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It wasn't the first time I'd punched someone in the face, but I said nothing.