A New Kind of Literary Pulse

My life changed the day Cleopatra corporealized in the outdoor food court during our lunch rush. Corporealized. Bet you're surprised I know such a big word, but I do love me a good ghost story. Love ... [+]

It was a muggy morning at Cozy Cottage Nursing Home, and the arthritis was bothering me pretty bad. Hurt to move. Hurt to type. Still does, matter of fact. That's why, when they asked me for an ... [+]

There's a painting at the Chicago Institute of Art by Gustave Caillebotte titled Paris Street; Rainy Day. I used to go and look at it every Thursday. Thursday, because that's the day with the fewest ... [+]

"Oh, Geoffrey! Good. You're finally home. Just put it all on the kitchen table. Were you able to get everything I wanted for the party?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"It's just that it's so late, did you run ... [+]

Joe's knuckles bled, the result of inflation.
Tonya was some sort of greedy little Tinker Bell wannabe. She even had the wings to go along with it. She wore them every single day. The whole idiotic ... [+]

Jess was only ten when the first pods washed up on the shore. She'd been standing with her toes dug into the sand, letting the cold Atlantic Ocean swirl around her ankles, daring herself to venture ... [+]

Probably I shouldn't have looked in that NO ADMITTANCE HIGH VOLTAGE DANGER OF DEATH door. I was loitering on the ramp to the #7 subway train at Grand Central Station. I didn't want to go home to ... [+]

It came to him suddenly, as he ran down the street screaming and on fire, that he was making a spectacle of himself.
After all, this was a modest neighborhood of well-maintained lawns and sensible ... [+]