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		<title>The Garden District</title>
		<link>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/18/the-garden-district/</link>
		<comments>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/18/the-garden-district/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 19 Jun 2013 00:27:09 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Brian Benoit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[detective]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[flash fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[new orleans]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[queen of hearts]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://pinionpost.com/?p=5929</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The Garden District Philippe Bonté had clubs all over town—Carrollton, Gentilly, the Lower Ninth—but it was Sunday morning, and that meant I’d find him at his Garden District hotel, likely sipping black coffee and balancing some lithe teenage girl on his knee. For a criminal, Bonté kept a surprisingly high profile; his schedule was practically [&#8230;]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=pinionpost.com&#038;blog=34615160&#038;post=5929&#038;subd=pinionpost&#038;ref=&#038;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
	
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		<title>From the Cradle</title>
		<link>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/17/from-the-cradle/</link>
		<comments>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/17/from-the-cradle/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 17 Jun 2013 20:18:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Brian Benoit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[short stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[flash fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[trifecta writing challenge]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[series]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://pinionpost.com/?p=5924</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[From the Cradle Fevered, I dreamt I crawled a burning maze, my limbs withering and sloughing off in my wake; dead men chattered nonsense, mouths filled with ash, eyes filled with pain; then a drenching rain swept up from some distant gulf, washing the ash and limbs and fire into an endless black chasm. When [&#8230;]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=pinionpost.com&#038;blog=34615160&#038;post=5924&#038;subd=pinionpost&#038;ref=&#038;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>8</slash:comments>
	
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		<title>Summer</title>
		<link>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/14/summer/</link>
		<comments>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/14/summer/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 14 Jun 2013 17:57:45 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Brian Benoit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poems]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[summer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[trifecta]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[trifextra]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://pinionpost.com/?p=5882</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Summer Responsibility is the artifice of adulthood. We are industrious in our pursuit of complication— of noble strife. Promotions, office drama, coffee preferences, scraping cents. But summer is the soul’s breath. Sunlight. Earth. For this weekend&#8217;s Trifextra Challenge we were asked for 33 words on what Summer means to us. Obviously I&#8217;m still pining for [&#8230;]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=pinionpost.com&#038;blog=34615160&#038;post=5882&#038;subd=pinionpost&#038;ref=&#038;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/14/summer/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>21</slash:comments>
	
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		<title>The Crucible of Death</title>
		<link>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/13/the-crucible-of-death/</link>
		<comments>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/13/the-crucible-of-death/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 13 Jun 2013 17:32:40 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Brian Benoit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[detective]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://pinionpost.com/?p=5862</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The Crucible of Death When I awoke, the golden morning was pouring through tall windows, glowing behind shifting gossamer curtains. Madelaine lay beside me, long and liquid and naked. She smiled. “You talk in your sleep, Sean,” she said. I sat up. I was still fully dressed. “Anything interesting?” “Dreadfully boring. Dirty laundry and mysteries [&#8230;]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=pinionpost.com&#038;blog=34615160&#038;post=5862&#038;subd=pinionpost&#038;ref=&#038;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">light through windows with curtains</media:title>
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		<title>Lonely Travelers</title>
		<link>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/11/lonely-travelers/</link>
		<comments>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/11/lonely-travelers/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 12 Jun 2013 01:30:31 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Brian Benoit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[egypt]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[flash fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[series]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[short stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[the treatment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[trifecta writing challenge]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://pinionpost.com/?p=5855</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Lonely Travelers I drove south over dunes and flats of rough-packed gravel, my brother groaning meaningless psalms in the back, Meher’s lifeless body jostling like a marionette to my right. My leg needed attention: Shrapnel had nicked the femoral artery, which leaked a slow pulse of blood—a violent bump might tear it completely—but our attackers [&#8230;]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=pinionpost.com&#038;blog=34615160&#038;post=5855&#038;subd=pinionpost&#038;ref=&#038;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/11/lonely-travelers/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>13</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">moon, stars, night sky</media:title>
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		<title>Out for Blood</title>
		<link>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/04/out-for-blood/</link>
		<comments>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/04/out-for-blood/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 05 Jun 2013 03:11:11 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Brian Benoit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[flash fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[short stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[the treatment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[trifecta writing challenge]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://pinionpost.com/?p=5830</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Out for Blood Sweat stung my eyes and blurred my sight. Meher stumbled ahead of me, walking backward and straining. My brother hung between us like a bridge, heavy and insensible, as the footsteps grew louder behind. “Who are they?” Meher gasped. “What do they want with your brother?” “They don’t want my brother,” I [&#8230;]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=pinionpost.com&#038;blog=34615160&#038;post=5830&#038;subd=pinionpost&#038;ref=&#038;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://pinionpost.com/2013/06/04/out-for-blood/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>13</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">English: Human blood magnified 600 times</media:title>
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		<title>On Damāvand</title>
		<link>http://pinionpost.com/2013/05/31/on-damavand/</link>
		<comments>http://pinionpost.com/2013/05/31/on-damavand/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 31 May 2013 16:21:59 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Brian Benoit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[dahag]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[damavand]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[flash fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[iran]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[short stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tehran]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[trifecta]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[trifextra]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://pinionpost.com/?p=5827</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[On Damāvand We sit on sleeping fire, on Damāvand, where the dragon Dahāg writhes in his bonds. We see our city, older than myth, and its transient seething. The hill shakes; our hearts are inflamed. This is my response to the weekend Trifextra challenge, from the friendly folks over at the Trifecta Writing Challenge. The [&#8230;]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=pinionpost.com&#038;blog=34615160&#038;post=5827&#038;subd=pinionpost&#038;ref=&#038;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://pinionpost.com/2013/05/31/on-damavand/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>15</slash:comments>
	
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		<title>The Goodnight Song</title>
		<link>http://pinionpost.com/2013/05/30/the-goodnight-song/</link>
		<comments>http://pinionpost.com/2013/05/30/the-goodnight-song/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 31 May 2013 02:01:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Brian Benoit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[flash fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[friday fictioneers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[songs]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://pinionpost.com/?p=5822</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The Goodnight Song Old, I am. I start to dream and suddenly I am this passing thing. Tall windows light up the walls and the shadows cast will guard my bed. Snow falls: It’s gathering out upon the street as a girl walks by. Slow rhythm. An easy heart- beat is lulled to sleep by a memory. This is my [&#8230;]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=pinionpost.com&#038;blog=34615160&#038;post=5822&#038;subd=pinionpost&#038;ref=&#038;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://pinionpost.com/2013/05/30/the-goodnight-song/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>11</slash:comments>
	
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		<title>Dead Drunk</title>
		<link>http://pinionpost.com/2013/05/29/dead-drunk/</link>
		<comments>http://pinionpost.com/2013/05/29/dead-drunk/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 29 May 2013 14:59:50 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Brian Benoit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[flash fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[noir]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[queen of hearts]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[short stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[undead detective]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://pinionpost.com/?p=5819</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dead Drunk I don’t know what made me angrier, that the bitch had killed me, or that she thought she could make up for it with some pulpy story of lust and love. “Listen, cherie,” I said, my words slurred by what must have been a dozen bourbons, “you used me, that’s all there is. [&#8230;]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=pinionpost.com&#038;blog=34615160&#038;post=5819&#038;subd=pinionpost&#038;ref=&#038;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://pinionpost.com/2013/05/29/dead-drunk/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>6</slash:comments>
	
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		<title>Dear Characters: A Confession</title>
		<link>http://pinionpost.com/2013/05/24/dead-characters-a-confession/</link>
		<comments>http://pinionpost.com/2013/05/24/dead-characters-a-confession/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 24 May 2013 17:16:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Brian Benoit</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[flash fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[trifecta]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[trifextra]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[writing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://pinionpost.com/?p=5789</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear Characters: A Confession I’m going to kill you. Please don’t fight it. After all, you either die on the page, on your own terms, or you die when they close the book. Which is worse? A quick 33 words for the weekend Trifextra challenge. Head on over and read the rest of the entries [&#8230;]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=pinionpost.com&#038;blog=34615160&#038;post=5789&#038;subd=pinionpost&#038;ref=&#038;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://pinionpost.com/2013/05/24/dead-characters-a-confession/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>15</slash:comments>
	
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