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Liar

by Chris Miskiewicz

“So, is that it?” I ask the dark. “Yes,” she answers. I stare ahead for an unknown amount of time. True to form I begin thinking of a way out. A con. A barter. Anything. Because I always want more. “It was faster than I thought it would be,” I say out loud. There’s […]

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White

by Chris Miskiewicz

I couldn’t focus. All I could see was the shape of her hips underneath that fitted white coat. If you saw her in it, you’d think of Italy, or an animal in its prime, or that scent of richness that mad women tend to have. But, she didn’t seem mad to me. Then again, […]

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The Lights Across The River

by Chris Miskiewicz

I saw stars. That black echo of dull feeling that comes from a good hit to the head had its grip on me. Still though, I immediately spun around with a fast right hook to see Rob move aside like slow lighting as his hand grabbed tight around my wrist. He smiled and then […]

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The Background

by Chris Miskiewicz

I don’t know why I was at that party. It was 1940 and I had cut off my remaining rock-n-roll locks for a second SAG waiver. Then, Leonardo DiCaprio walked past me. We never made the final cut. I had just left an uptown project. I’m sure that I didn’t live there, but I […]

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The Writer

by Chris Miskiewicz

I can’t sleep, so I walk through the house to the kitchen and stare out the back window towards Manhattan. The moon’s supposed to be out, but instead clouds line the sky like a fine grey powder as the wind comes from the west. My hand finds my forehead and begins to scratch at […]

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War on Queens Blvd

by Chris Miskiewicz

“You guys ready?” I asked, craning my neck over the seat to see Mark shaking his head from side to side while Mike nervously looked around. “Absolutely!” Evan screamed beside me with a double fist punch to the dashboard and a bellowing “Foreman!” which was his catchphrase. Whenever something happened he’d scream “Foreman!” followed […]

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Cobain

by Chris Miskiewicz

I had just turned around from closing my locker only to get thrown back into it by the force of a truck hitting me in the chest. The combination lock jammed into my back bringing stars into my eyes as the sound of a cannon bang rattled down the long line of lockers. “Hey […]

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Nineteen Year Old Polish Girl Down The Block

by Chris Miskiewicz

I can hear the sounds of cars and one lone motorcycle speeding along somewhere out there, playing that how-fast-can-I-go game that every boy with a hot machine between his legs tries to play. Tonight, there’s a plane going over my house and the “woosh” of cars passing on the B.Q.E. A police siren, with the rattling of a cat as he climbs […]

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Good House

by Chris Miskiewicz

She walks down Manhattan Avenue with strong shoulders and a supple posture. Her dog trails behind as well as leads her along. It’s a familiar walk, like they’ve been doing this together for a while. The street aches from bitter winds. Steam blows from manhole covers and smokestacks. While the scent of bread from […]

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The Copy Shop

by Chris Miskiewicz

     The florescent lights flicker above me. I can hear them. But, more important is the fact that I can feel them. It’s something about the electric. I know it is.      My stomach hurts, and I can smell this shirt. I hate this shirt. I really do. But my stomach is […]

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the rosebush awning, 1979 – Seeing where the dolls went

by Chris Miskiewicz

.     the rosebush awning, 1979 .     Seeing where the dolls went      We made the long drive out to the island where they lived encapsulated in one of those towns that exist only as an exit sign on the L.I.E. Just a flash of green with a number marking […]

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About Signals

Signals is a short story/spoken word series by writing mastermind, Chris Miskiewicz.