Tag: Creative Writing
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Magda Balls looked at her two new guests, her back was up against the stove in the kitchen, a cigarette… Read more.
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You, again. The erratic sidewinder in plaid. Going apeshit over a loaf of bread. Have you ever heard of tranquility?… Read more.
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I built a chair today in my workshop I made it out of milk skin and aggression God was my… Read more.
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Time is all nonsense now, like purple wine in a gravity-free cathedral. Jesus and his sex dolls are just spinning… Read more.
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The town’s name was Sudan and there was a smell of animal dung and sawdust and perfumed whores in the… Read more.
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The man plopped down into a soft sofa of sand. The waves out there before him were at medium. They… Read more.
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“Age is just restlessness etched in the air. We just wait for the calendar to spin. We wait and do… Read more.
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“She beat me with her soft white knuckles. They were so damn clean and tender and feminine.” Read more.
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“Aw, come on, Lloyd. No one uses shoeboxes for shoes. What you got in them? Dope? Naughty pictures? Laughing gas… Read more.
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“Yes. Word spreads. Word gets to me. People say you give off bad vibes, that you’re unprofessional and have a… Read more.
