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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Back from the sea, old foe of Nature! To the land lost one hundred and one years ago. Across the strings they drew their bows. In the night of ice they raised them. To arms with the wood glossed with sunrises they would not see by day or the sunsets by night. To the bottom you go, old foe! And ne...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Twitter and trill! A bird and a swirling tongued dancer cry and not a difference is known. Let loose the strings of thought! I am not yet a flier of wings. Do not ask to fly! The words your feather and wax, unmeltable! When the first speakers walked from the jungle their tongues flapped an ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    out of the limbs mind that cracks like clay from the tapping fingertips the muscles that creak the sweat drains...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    In the front room, typewriters ticked and tacked letters and words onto crisp white pages rolled between platens. The workers chattered as they often did, not bothering to watch their hands clicking and scrolling and ticking like clocks racing through the seconds. Someone wailed. “Oh, dear,...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    It’s a sleek lollipop wrapped in a thin amount of plastic. The sweet crystals stick lightly to the tongue, the taste tangy and tart. This lollipop, above others, is like the air of a lost festival in the late afternoon with white tents and two stages and booths with flying papers and candies i...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    there was a tree (yes, my dear) garnet branches and candy leaves (i saw them myself) cicadas droned and shelled themselves (they were brittle) the tree was strong (arms like a man raising his) tuesday breath in the morning (it was my sister and i) a day ago (or a month or a year or a decade) ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Mr. Chatterton owned a lighthouse— not the kind that calls in boats on nights without light from the moon, no, but a house like most along the street. Certainly nothing was strange about it. Each house in the row where it stood looked very much the same, each two stories tall with a gaping front p...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    As soon as I gave up, I knew, in one way or another, I’d be back here. I was done, I had said, done! I really thought I was. No more art for me! I had always loved the image of a wandering, poor artist unable to make a living yet whose art is brilliance, but my story was a sorry inferior. I was...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Poor thing, was Juanita’s first thought. The boy was crying over a puddle in the street, his tears falling into it, creating its foundation of salt and sorrow. In rickety shoes he wavered back and forth. She walked to his side and kneeled down. “Are you alright?” “No!” he sobbed. ...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    The asteroid was hurtling straight for Vallius 99. The captain saw it first on the radar, only a red pinpoint among the green squares of the grid, a harmless speck. But that was wrong. “Wrong!” shouted the captain. “Our course is wrong!” He marched from the cabin to the sleeping quar...
  • Fiction > Historical Fiction
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    1. “To the Merillat!” Lester called. From the lighthouse he ran, Grandfather side-stepping the hill. “Hoist the sails! Well, what’s the wind? Trim the mainsail, the jib sheets! To the sea, the sea!” Grandfather hollered. “Now,” he said, “all we need in a storm.” And here it...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    It was the evening in the City. Lois saw the words dancing in the air, the strings of gentle phrases urging. She closed her eyes and--- Go, go! Your questions, they are waiting for answers! Will you not go, oh my child? Will you not go? And she sat up violently. “Yes, I will! Why, yes!” Out ...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    1. I was not alive. Yet here and now I stood, on the grassland. The grass was alive, and it whispered to the on-fire sky that I was here and now and it was here and now and nothing else was even alive. But it was wrong. I was not alive. The wood, as if it did not care to see the world or th...

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