I resist rest as an antidote, you write letters to the tooth fairy, I own three guns and you hate change.
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A man sets out to discover the large granite egg that bears his soul.
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“What struck him most was that this could not un-exist.” Pregnancies and miscommunication: James Hartman’s “Dear Story” is this week’s Tuesday Tale.
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In this story we breathe the intimacy of a sensual, gritty city
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Wharton could see the cemetery from her window as she wrote (every day until at least 11, lying in bed), surrounded by her living dogs and gazing out at her dead. ...
Bash the coconut as hard as you can on the terracotta tiles and then the corners of the stucco-clad house before—keenly aware of your daughter’s waning interest and her diminishing ...
A man’s life perspective is mysteriously changed while on a balloon ride that he has saved up for. : “The air surged into the balloon folds, the sackcloth flapped, and ...
A futuristic look at our fraying ecology: “Out on the streets, stray dogs collapsed, their jaws sunk into pools of their own drool
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“A brief history of fucking: “”We found each other.. when teen angst had the urge to yank
innocence’s hair, talk dirty in its ear.”
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Surely, there is no better feeling than walking successfully on the precariousness of an edge, I thought
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A ghost inside can make Scorpio and Taurus very happy’ is about love and connection, making jokes and making a cake, a delicious chocolate cake that has, surprise surprise, a ...
Men armed with hatchets, not cameras. Men who hunted them thinking there was value in a strip of unshaded land. Today’s Flash Friday “The Hunt by Lisa Farrell.
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“What would it be like to let go?” In today’s #FlashFriday, a woman goes climbing to escape her grief and her life down below.
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“The bruises were new. The words were not.” Today’s flash fiction is a dark story of domestic violence and a daughter’s hope for escape.
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The rush hour had long finished and I stood sweating at the roadside clutching the address of my hotel. I had set out this morning and seemed to have forgotten ...
Dolores, wedged between the fetid hosiery of skin and marriage, sinks into beige, unravels and plucks from an invigorating circulation.
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Litro was deeply saddened to learn of Obinna’s recent passing. His immense love for literature & his journey as a writer remains an inspiration. We mourn the loss of this ...
In which God shows the many forms of his fury. ‘God kicking down doors on His way across the sky, grey
voluminous beard billowing.’
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When we adapt to suit our ambition, what do we become? ‘In the beginning I complained about the orange dye rubbing off on our towels and the seats of our ...
A story of toughening up and the residue of the Holocaust. ‘When my eyes open again my face is in a girl’s lap and all I see are long, skinny ...