Stories
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Micro-Fiction Corner: All Quiet On The Frontal Lobe
The clinic advertised peace of mind as if it were dental whitening. The procedure was painless, outpatient, and increasingly popular among people exhausted by indecision. A narrow pulse targeted the frontal lobe, softening what the brochure called “excessive executive noise”: second-guessing, inhibition, anticipatory regret, moral rehearsal, and the endless internal committee meeting that made simple…
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Micro-Fiction Corner: Got Us Some Crime To Be Done
“Got us some crime to be done.” The announcement came through the apartment door before the knocking started, which was useful because it gave the person inside enough time to hide the tax forms, the unpaid parking tickets, and a laptop containing nothing illegal but several searches that looked ambitious out of context. The visitor…
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Micro-Fiction Corner: You Taste Actively Bad
“You taste actively bad.” The complaint came halfway through the kiss. There are few dignified responses to that sentence, particularly when delivered by someone who had been enthusiastic enough seconds earlier to knock over a lamp. The offended party pulled back, checked for garlic, coffee, or some catastrophic dental emergency, then demanded clarification. Apparently, the…
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Micro-Fiction Corner: Never Look In The Mirror When You’re Tripping
The warning was written on the bathroom wall in black marker. Never look in the mirror when you’re tripping. It seemed like the sort of advice that belonged in a stranger’s apartment, wedged between a broken towel rack and a shower curtain patterned with mushrooms. Still, curiosity had already done most of the damage by…
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Micro-Fiction Corner: Li’l Bit Of A Lotta Gal
She was five feet tall in boots and somehow took up more room than anyone else in the house. Not physically. The house simply seemed to reorganize itself around whatever she decided to become that week. On Monday she was learning violin, so the dining table disappeared beneath sheet music. By Wednesday she had taken…
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Micro-Fiction Corner: No Offense, But You’re My weird Crush
“No offense, but you’re my weird crush.” The confession arrived while they were both waiting for the copier to stop making a noise like a dying goose. There were several possible responses. Laughter seemed cruel. Gratitude seemed encouraging. Asking what made the crush weird felt like volunteering for injury. So the recipient chose the worst…
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Micro-Fiction Corner: Wanna Join My Cult?
“Wanna join my cult?” The invitation was so casual it sounded like a joke, which was why people kept saying yes. There were no robes, no chanting, no secluded compound in the desert. Meetings took place in the back room of a laundromat on Thursdays because the owner offered a discount after six. The refreshments…
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Micro-Fiction Corner: Trauma Dump Baby Bump
The pregnancy announcement began with a sonogram and ended with a confession about childhood neglect. Nobody remembered exactly how it happened. One moment the expectant parent was holding up a grainy black-and-white image; the next, everyone at brunch knew about the locked bedroom door, the Christmas spent alone, the parent who drank, the teacher who…
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Micro-Fiction Corner: Dipping Dumplings You’ve Never Heard Of
“I’m dipping dumplings you’ve never heard of.” The sentence appeared online beneath a photograph of six pale crescents arranged around a ceramic bowl of black sauce. Within an hour, strangers were demanding the restaurant’s name. By dinner, food accounts were calling the dish “the next thing.” By morning, people were arguing about whether they had…
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Micro-Fiction Corner: If I Get Pushed Into The Pool One More Time
“If I get pushed into a pool one more time, somebody is going to die.” Everyone laughed because everyone always laughed. It began at the first summer party, when someone thought it hilarious to shove the fully dressed guest into the shallow end. The next time happened at a wedding reception. Then a birthday. Then…