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fallingdove
Over 90 days ago
United States

Stories

Series

I move through the interstitial layers, I smoke in the basement, I write in the margins, and grow in the cracks I'm lost and I'm looking, all around the edges, and I'll never find more than a crumb because it's designed that way They say I've lost thirty-...

My first crush was a fat boyHe had beautiful green eyesHe played the pianoHe is gay - of course, he isBut I think that's part of why I loved himHe didn't need anything from meNot enough to behave badly.My heart squiggles around nervously in my chestEvery...

Working at the Vend

a sci-fi story about the artificial intellegence administration of a convenience store

Robbie punched the button for a bottle of orange juice with his right ring finger, a checking account, and tapped his watch. The watch blinked red and flashed ISF. He did it again and again with the same result. I can’t believe I’m out of cred. He pulled...

I just answered one of those calls that I get from the Vet Center the day before I go in for an appointment with my counselor. One of the nice things about having been in a war is that I get a free shrink for the rest of my foreseeable future. I remember...

Bitter Ticking

Awww... a poor privileged man lost his Rollex, how sad...

Large ice blue eyes towered over my head, bullying me into accepting his reality. Of course, I nodded, agreed, appeased. I changed the accounting codes facilitating the theft of expensive cases of wine. The whole company set its sharp teeth against my unw...

Tonight, I can not sleepBecause the eye of the Universe is watching meThe strands of the fabric of everything weave through my thoughtsAnd pull themselves through my breathThe voice of All rolls over my tongue In the unfathomable blathering of wavesOr may...

The Flavor of Duck

I'm afraid I'll bore you, I have a complicated thought, about food, relationships, and happiness.

Lately, all the food I eat tastes like nothing. I might as well be fueling a lawn mower, or eating dirt like a plant for all the joy eating gives me. That might be part of why I'm thin. My mom would say my slight build is because I'm unhappy, and when I f...

Eloise's First Deer

setting: 1959 Western Montana, sage covered Confederated Salish & Kootani Reservation range land

Lee handed his eight-year-old daughter a shotgun loaded with a pumpkin-ball. She couldn't shoulder the heavy shotgun correctly, and the pumpkin-ball had less than the range of a football field. It was safe enough. His thinking was that he would send Elois...

The scanner beeped as I ran it over the red box of cigarettes. I looked up at a boy with thin whiskers. "Can I see ID? You look kinda young-ish," I said with a smile. He fumbled with his wallet for a moment and I awkwardly looked at the young man. The dri...

A bookkeeper silently tapped away her life at the see and saw of what they paythey say the meaning of life is to make the fat man fatterbut I doubt he even lives for thatShe taps away at numbers swirlingon a dark rainy night of Halloweenwith numbers blurr...

My purse swung off my shoulder and plopped into my office chair. I went for my coffee cup. Then I noticed the barbecue sauce splattered all over the file cabinet. "Eww . . . this is really gross and weird," I thought as I cleaned it off. The thick red sau...

The Identity of Joyce Whitman

written from an idea that came to me at work.

Joyce tapped a pen against the IRS Auditor’s desk nervously. The dark haired auditor was quietly reading from a stack of papers. “So, this year you have worked in twelve states, earning $448,227 dollars from 37,000 some odd hours of work this year.” The p...

Patrick leaned against the inspector's big white truck. It was a Chevy with an extended bed and cab. "I sold Bruce this truck. I got it from this place where I used to work in Nevada, a place that grew onions. They sprayed the ground there with sulfuric a...

I love drunk writing because I say things I’d never say sober. I go home early from work because I feel like hell, nothing contagious, don’t worry, you won’t get sick . . . it’s just that monthly woman thing that makes me tired and cranky and pathetic, bu...