Size Me Once
My name is Lorelei Butterworth, I'm 52 years old, and I've been a mail clerk at the central post office for nineteen years.
Dry and wry stories, from quick reads to long series. Most dry and wry stories here sit in exhibitionist & voyeur and erotic couplings. Reads run 15 to 24 minutes. Writers to know: Thread of Thorn, Meridian Harbor and Tangent of Ridge. Readers usually start with “The Confocal Compromise” and “Mulberry and Midnight”. Ranked by how many readers finish them. Some are free to read in full; the rest open with a free preview.
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My name is Lorelei Butterworth, I'm 52 years old, and I've been a mail clerk at the central post office for nineteen years.
I had the whole morning to myself, which never happens.
I pulled into the cul-de-sac at six fifteen, right when the light goes gold and everything looks better than it is.
The night Vernon left, I did the math on the motel receipt and laughed.
Cyndi Farrell, a white woman of thirty-six, professionally annoyed, pushed through the door of Sergio's at 7:04 on a Friday night in late…
I'd been looking forward to that Friday all week, and I will state that plainly before anything else gets complicated.
The barge had been a working freight boat forty years ago, and whoever converted it never met a piece of decoration they didn't like.
The brake pedal went soft about two miles out from the landfill, which is how I learned that a brake booster hose can rupture without…
Mackenzie was fifty-three years old and she had lived in a lot of bad apartments, but this one had walls made out of paper and spite, and…
Edmund Prickett was thirty-eight years old, and he believed in Tuesday.
*This one came from the idea of discovering desire in a place you never expected to feel it.
Natalie Schaeffer came through the hotel doors at a half run, dragging a green duffel bag that kept snagging on the revolving door.
Lucia had been dropping hints about the whole thing for a year, and Keith had missed every single one of them, which was honestly kind of…
The power went out at 7:40 on a Thursday evening in August.
Bernice Hale stood on Andie's front porch and took a breath.
Let me explain how a golf professional ends up in a recording studio above a bicycle shop on a Tuesday night.
Rita here, thirty-four, and I'll tell you right off that my life in Corrofin had gotten so predictable by last October that I could tell…
Don Carroll was fifty-four years old, and he had spent most of those years holding the needle instead of the rope.
I sat there in Terminal 1 with my laptop bag and my little roller case and listened to the fluorescent lights hum, and I thought, well…
So it was my birthday, and I spent the morning of it driving a van full of pool chemicals up a gravel road in the middle of nowhere.
Thread of Thorn, Meridian Harbor, Tangent of Ridge, Laurel Story
Dry and wry stories, from quick reads to long series.
Some stories are free to read in full, with no account. The rest open with a free preview; members read everything.
Most dry and wry stories take 15 to 24 minutes, and the average is 19. Sort by shortest to start small, or follow a series to get each part as it lands.