Tag: Short Fiction
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Ghost Mints
Winter’s weight and dust galoreEyes heavy in the pain of dawncheekbones achewhiskey madness takes its tollon an ever-building mint bridge to heaven, scars, delusionsI’d be cutting the lawnif there were a lawn to cutI’d be drinking soda drops and popsif I wasn’t a ghostsuch a ghostwalking through wallswading in the stallsI might be painting the Read more
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Tecumah (2.)
“Seems like it was just yesterday I was sitting on your couch in your super hip Nob Hill pad looking up at the wall and admiring this painting while we got baked to oblivion. Those sure were some good times.” Read more
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Tecumah (1.)
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The Lobster Guy (Seven)
Truman took in a shocked breath and sat back in the booth. “You just blew my mind, my eerie lobster friend. There I was this whole time, rotting away in Neptune, Nebraska, breaking chicken necks and punching a register at some shitty grocery store. There I was, pining over a woman I could never have.… Read more
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The Lobster Guy (Five)
And what he saw there made his eyes spiral in angry madness like a psychotic clown. Read more

