Stories

The All-The Way House – Gabriel Hart

The room assumed me.

The only way to return to the All-The Way House was from the top floor. The third story. Though a dread fills my mind that there may be an attic as well.

I’m not going to lie – I know the attic is there. I knew the whole time. But you don’t ever, ever enter the attic – not through its window from the outside or the floor hatch from the ceiling of the third floor.

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Stories

every life is a closed universe – Darragh Savage

The heart of every living creature beats approximately the same number of times before it stops, so life is therefore a matter of velocity rather than time. This was something an old friend told me, a thin boy from Barcelona who liked speed and whose heart as a result always beat very fast.

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Stories

Florida Man – Josh Sherman

I do another line, and I feel like I’m in my own time zone.

I’m in the bathroom of my basement apartment, cutting up some more blow with my government-issued health card. I like the irony. My friends are just outside, in the kitchen. The only thing separating us is the door.

“They’re singing now!”

That’s Yuri. He’s come over for one of my sausage parties.

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Stories

Bruce in his Chair – Derek Maine

The first day Carl showed up for work at Bruce’s apartment was a Thursday which meant he had to give Bruce an enema. Bruce only shat on Mondays and Thursdays. Carl had never administered an enema. Bruce talked him through it, lying on his side. Carl popped a capsule out of its plastic casing. He squirted Vaseline on his gloves and guided the capsule with his pointer finger slowly up Bruce’s asshole then said something stupid.

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