Stories tagged short-story

I Like it This Way

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Through its branches we saw a couple. Teenagers, narrow and pale, two young birch trees, their roots twisted, submerged in the water.

Parsing We

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An excellent plan. Just like old times.

Hardly Used Tractors

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Now Carver Smithton has a paunched belly as stout as the beer that fills it. His upper lip is thick, fat and flat like a caterpillar run over by a semi on Highway 17.

Hey Jude

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I laugh too loud cause the world looks good that way and for a minute we both make funny sounds just to exercise our vocal cords and see how close we can come to the line without crossing.

The Nielsens (part one)

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I am one one millionth of a ratings point. A little flash of electronic blue against the wall of an otherwise unlit upstairs room at night. Walk by on the sidewalk feeling lonely, then see that harsh spark of indigo spring from the dark window above and

Giving Notice

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"Ms. Betina," Burton repeated Dr. Prasad's words and pictured Bittie Betina as someone all together different: someone like a secretary or maybe a claims adjuster, someone Lolly wouldn't have been ashamed of.

The Hamster Eulogies

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But not once did we mention heaven. The next day we bought another one.

The Only Still Thing

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This morning there is one ant crawling along the window sill. It is carrying something, but I can't tell what it is. It could be a crumb, but I don't eat in my room (Mother would have a fit) and I don't know why it would take the long way around…

The Exhibit

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She had written down Bailey’s new address even though she knew that he could not stay in the same place for more than six months.

The Underwear Thing

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Our banter has shifted, like wading from the shallow to the deep end. He taps his foot. “Your underwear reminded me of my grandma’s underwear.”

Comic Superhero

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Andrew had learned the art of being a chameleon at school where his school uniform provided an exoskeleton. Beneath was no costume, just the fragile skin of adolescent ego.

Fifty-One

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Several friends—hers and his—hung around the edges of their marriage, and it would be naive to rule out the possibility of a few stray affairs. The thought didn’t anger him; on the contrary it amused him as if it were some trivia question, the answe

Rhodesia was looking for a few good men

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"... I’d always thought that the Freudian concept of a death wish was a romantic conceit ... "

The Seven Year Itch

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It’s not every day that a girl like me gets greeted with a hairy beast that orgles and spits when excited. Didn’t help none that it only had one eye. Poor little ole bugger.

Courtesy

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What does it mean to be a man? Shoes knows. It's when you're walking down the street and a bunch of kids try to get you to fight with them and you don't. …