For Courage by Bogdan Dragos

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Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

A large black pot with smoke lifting from it and potions and scrolls surrounding it
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“Getting drunk to write

is stupid,”

she said,

“not to mention

utterly pathetic.”

And I said, “Yeah, I agree.”

“Good. Then

why are you drinking now?”

“Well…”

Shit, she got me. There

was nothing

I could say. I didn’t know

what the hell I was doing. There was

still so much about

existence that I

had no explanation for. I didn’t

drink for inspiration. I

didn’t need

inspiration. Just the courage

to write.

Suddenly I felt like the cowardly

lion from

The Wizard of Oz.

The poor fool wasn’t missing

courage, was he?

No, he just needed someone to

tell him that he already

had courage. It was

inside him all along.

Me, if I do drink, it’s never

for inspiration,

but rather the courage to

throw my written words

into the abyss

at editors

and publishers

and so on

I never seem to be ready

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thrill of the wrong place by Bogdan Dragos

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j re crivello's avatarGobblers by Masticadores

she sat him down at what she judged to be the most isolated table in the restaurant and then seated herself across from him took off her shoes and did what she always did when they shared the same table placed her feet into his lap and began to work around the belt and the zipper She was getting quite good at it. Unnaturally skilled. Her toes having the dexterity of fingers “When will you get tired of this?” he whispered She smirked at him and said, “To get tired before the climax is a sin.” It was true. In her world. But her world was a most weird one If not in the restaurant, she'd only want to get intimate in the back seat of some bus. If not that then in the bathroom of some gas station. If not that then in some changing room of a clothing…

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Jar of Bugs by Bogdan Dragos

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ʕ ·ᴥ·ʔ人ʕ·ᴥ· ʔ  

Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

A man's hand holding out a cup of coffee in the foreground with a view of a city in the distant background
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he rides a rusty bike

in the cold

night

sliding like a

fish

from alley to alley

He’s going up

the hill again

All he’s got on him

besides

his clothes

and the bike

is a thermos filled with

coffee he got from

the vending machine

at the mall

coffee bought with

money earned

from a day’s work of

standing by the traffic lights

at the intersection,

waiting for them to turn

red

and offering to wash

someone’s windshield

Once on top of the

hill

he leaves the bike at

the base

of the water tower

and climbs the cold

iron ladder

There’s no one to stop him

at this time

He sits down

cross-legged

opens the thermos and pours

the coffee into

the cup part

and sips

Ahead of him

the city sleeps

Only a lone light shines

here and there

in some window

If…

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release of life-giving fluids by Bogdan Dragos

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j re crivello's avatarGobblers by Masticadores

 father was very patient today after he came back from work patient enough to wait for diner to be over and the table to be cleaned and the bedroom door closed before he started shouting at mother Well, she couldn't just sit back and take it. She shouted right back, louder, and just like that another fight exploded there Fights were always a problem A growing boy can't jerk off to drawings of busty women having great fun with tentacle monsters on the screen of his computer while his parents are fighting in the other room It breaks the immersion, goddammit So he turned off the computer and stood with his pants and underwear about his ankles and jerked off to the fight itself Shit, sometimes it's harder to stop the horniness than it is to stop a war An ungodly accumulation of energy has to be released somehow, else…

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being into bad girls by Bogdan Dragos

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j re crivello's avatarGobblers by Masticadores

Removing the bloody towel from the top of his head, he looked at the redness gathered amidst the white fluffiness and said, “It started with my mom.” and she completed with, “Obviously,” and added a swift rolling of the eyes “Yeah,” he went on. “She wasn't like other moms. And you know, those were really though times I grew up in. I don't know what other women would've done in her place, but she stole cash from her employer almost daily. Thus she made that hard life so much easier for both of us.” “Aha,” she said. “So basically that's why now as a grownup you're into bad girls, right?” “Basically,” he said, shrugging “Well,” she said, “you might end up disappointed. I don't think I can be as bad as your mom was.” “You fuckin' cracked my head open with a bottle after I approached you in the bar,”…

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Glass Shards in the Bloodstream by Bogdan Dragos

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Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

The black and white side profile of a woman's face holding up a broken shard of glass against her face with the reflection of two eyes in it
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she still read

random internet articles

from time to time

and it was in

one of them

that she found the good

news

It was below

a post titled

GOD IS LOVE

that she didn’t bother

to read

the one she did bother

to read

explained that small

shards of glass can

enter the body through

wounds

and make their way

through the veins

to the heart

And that kills

you

Finally

a good way to go

Not too messy and not too

pathetic

and, best of all,

not likely to be labeled

as suicide

Perfection

She finished her

drink

and put the phone away

and went into her

room where she locked

herself in

The large hand mirror

lay face down

on the nightstand

She grabbed it

and stretched on the floor

and rolled under

the bed

where she removed her

clothes

and watched herself…

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It helps release stress hormones by Bogdan Dragos

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j re crivello's avatarGobblers by Masticadores

different creatures will have different ways to cope with grief and stress There was a movie once in which a group of explorers got captured and imprisoned by a tribe of cannibals who were taking them out of the cage, killing and eating them one by one. And there's this scene where one of the prisoners pulls his dick out and starts rubbing it vigorously as the others watch with unspeakable indignation The explanation was simple. It helps release stress hormones Well, if it worked in a situation like that, he thought, then surely it will work as he does it in his room He's not surrounded by cannibals about to kill and eat him No, on the other side of the door is just a crying mother holding an eviction note in her trembling hands, reading it aloud to him through sobs, begging him to understand that it is…

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Find yourself standing back and questioning your whole existence by Bogdan Dragos

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Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

The soul of a woman floating up from a broken piece of floor
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He liked her story

Her body not

that much, but that mattered

so little

in comparison with

her story

She told him that

it was a teenage pregnancy

that pushed her

into prostitution. Definitely

not an uncommon

case.

She had to quit school

because

her parents would

no longer pay for

tuition. They disowned

her and kicked

her out. She gave birth

in a bathroom stall,

her first intention being

to kill the baby

“But, you know,” she’d said,

“it’s true what

they say about

motherly instinct. You get

it the moment you

hold your child in your

hands. All those people who

get on your nerves

urging you to

have kids

because you’ll love them

after you have them

do make sense now. There

is a grain

of truth there. I

couldn’t do it anymore.

I wanted to chop the thing

to pieces small enough

View original post 369 more words

eavesdropping for inspiration by Bogdan Dragos

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j re crivello's avatarGobblers by Masticadores

they say that eavesdropping on private conversations is quite the great idea for writers looking for inspiration Well, I think I was still a writer back then The year was 2013 and I was in college and also working my first job as a waiter at a fancy restaurant The problem with running a fancy restaurant in a not-at-all-fancy town is that you're gonna lack customers On that evening there was but a single table with one couple and I couldn't stand the guy I couldn't even call it eavesdropping because you could hear the dialogue even if you covered your ears Also I couldn't call it a dialogue because only the guy was talking And my god, was he talking and talking and talking and jumping from topic to topic like a loud, splashing skipping stone Who the hell could listen to his rambling and be like, 'okay, I've…

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Whatsoever things ye ask for when ye pray by Bogdan Dragos

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Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

The close up of a dark-skinned woman's red lipstick mouth blowing a thick plume of smoke
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she came out of her

house after

the heavy rain stopped

and walked up to

the bridge

and leaned forward

over the rail

and watched the

turbid river flowing by,

disappearing with

infinite length below her

feet

The rail was

wet and

she wiped it with

a few tissues

and then got her notebook

out

Using a simple pencil

she began drawing

the river

There wasn’t much to it,

just a couple of lines

but she gave them a nice

form

And when she was

done with the

drawing

she began writing

Wrote a poem into

the drawn river

Eternal sensation of

falling

I hear an inhuman voice

calling

Feel my awareness

crawling

underneath. Is it angel

for real or just a myth?

I shall jump toward it

I shall jump toward it

I’m ready this

world to quit

She ripped the paper

and crumpled it

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