Stories tagged ocean


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Before my eyes a giant wave expanded, gathering massive volumes of water together, drawing it in like liquid foaming magnets.

We Are Awake

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When you sleep in a tent you hear every whisper of the people in the site next to yours. Every mouse sifting through the fire pit. Every widowmaker in the trees that cracks and falls to the ground.

The Snotgreen Sea

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The only reason why Paddy talked to me at all was because I quoted from Ulysses. The sea, the snotgreen sea, the scrotumtightening sea! I shouted as I shucked oysters for the dinner rush.

Nobody Told Marni

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Marni never spoke first. And so, in love as she was, no-one dared question how or who when Marni's belly swelled and her cries circled a harvest moon... [304 words]

The Old Man and the Shark

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The shark’s voice was dark, warm and scratchy, like dying embers.


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...cause these oysters were the most famous oysters in the world but no more now, that was years before, in our grandfathers' tuxedo times...


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Whoever came up with the term kismet is an absolute moron. There isn't a single reason, or word, that can describe what exactly my brain has concocted in the face of him. No, kismet isn't what makes it happen. It's my own stupidity..

while we sleep

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The tide pushes through the bottom of the door. It fingers our hair where we sleep on our mattresses. It rises to the level of our windows and pulls us to sea where we rock upon the mournful waves, the seagulls distant and crying, our nightgowns soaked and sticking to us,…


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In a few brief moments the entire sky became full of this wetness and greyed to the point of almost blackening, and it was a Sunday morning, and the man thought that thoughts were strange things, because he had a piercing epiphany that there was no God..

Still Life

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She was a moon dancer, keeper of secrets,

Bus Ride

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Pretty boy looks over at me and grins, got a smoke?


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You can see the humped black rocks, majestic with that poetic looking surf around them just fine from up here, so most folks never even go down the stairs. They snap one, two, three shots and pile back into their cars and head south for the Trees of Myste

Unfathomable Mammals

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Supernatural, you say dripping, as you take my hand in yours squeeze down for dear life, boring your fingernails into my palm,

Bad Dad

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When they were seven, he’d taken them out to the desert and let them shoot a .38 at rusted cans. The explosions rocked them back on their heels.

Henry, reach!

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I've heard it said that nothing lasts forever. But when I heard this, no one could have made me believe that nothing referred to my Helen. For it was just this morning that I watched her step quite happily onto our porch, and blow me her goodbye kiss, as