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	<title>Michael John Grist &#187; Surreal</title>
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	<link>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com</link>
	<description>a Ruins Explorer and SF / Fantasy Author in Japan</description>
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		<title>Clay Head</title>
		<link>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2011/06/clay-head/</link>
		<comments>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2011/06/clay-head/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 10 Jun 2011 01:03:02 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>MJG</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Featured Story]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Surreal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/?p=7674</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Michael John Grist There’s a giant head in my living room. It’s made of grey clay and it sings through the night. It sings songs about America. Sometimes boogie-woogie or the Big Bopper. It sings Buddy Holly. It sings...]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
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		<title>Gutterman</title>
		<link>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/10/gutterman/</link>
		<comments>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/10/gutterman/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 29 Oct 2009 09:13:55 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>MJG</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Surreal]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/?p=4385</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<img class="alignright size-full wp-image-4387" title="gutterman 1601" src="http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/gutterman-1601.jpg" alt="gutterman 1601" width="160" height="120" />by Michael John Grist.
I found him one mad marsh-walking night.  I was out in the bogs, I don't know why, crossing wet rivers and wading through peat mulberry patches, dashings of filth worming their way into the cuffs of my suit turn-ups, smidgeons of muck smudging up and under my fingernails. ]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>6</slash:comments>
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		<title>Waterfall</title>
		<link>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/10/waterfall/</link>
		<comments>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/10/waterfall/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 07 Oct 2009 13:47:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>MJG</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Surreal]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/?p=4194</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Michael John Grist I cut open his brain because he needed help. &#8220;Help me,&#8221; he&#8217;d whispered, banging at my fly screen in the middle of the night, his wet shirtsleeves slapping against the cracked glass of my back porch...]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
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		<title>The Sphinx</title>
		<link>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/09/the-sphinx/</link>
		<comments>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/09/the-sphinx/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Sep 2009 20:08:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>MJG</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Surreal]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/?p=3797</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Michael John Grist The Sphinx asked me its questions. I ignored the Sphinx. It had the head of a lion, and the body of a man and woman combined. &#8220;Where are you from?&#8221; it asked. &#8220;Why are you here?&#8221;...]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
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		<title>Pendolino Lane</title>
		<link>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/09/pendolino-lane/</link>
		<comments>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/09/pendolino-lane/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Sep 2009 21:04:34 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>MJG</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Surreal]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/?p=3694</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Michael John Grist Despite Cray Upson&#8217;s best efforts, Milo Pendolino refused to sell him a home on Moresca hill. He always claimed the homes were already full, but Cray knew better, so he plotted out a plan. He knew...]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
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		<title>The Squinching of Ricky Shay</title>
		<link>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/08/the-squinching-of-ricky-shay/</link>
		<comments>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/08/the-squinching-of-ricky-shay/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Aug 2009 21:04:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>MJG</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Surreal]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/?p=3615</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[When the orders came down that all the gold was to be digested by the end of the day, Efren couldn&#8217;t believe his ears, despite their unusual and rather floppy size. &#8220;All the gold?&#8221; he asked his co-consumer Ricky Shay,...]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>4</slash:comments>
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		<title>Brand New Day</title>
		<link>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/08/brand-new-day/</link>
		<comments>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/08/brand-new-day/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 06 Aug 2009 02:44:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>MJG</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Surreal]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/?p=3407</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[TODAY She wakes up slow, opens her dull eyes expecting the new day to glow in, but no. It&#8217;s still night. She blinks, yawns into her pillow, stretches beneath the duvet. It&#8217;s the pig bedspread, the one her mother made....]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
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		<title>Two Hearts</title>
		<link>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/07/3325/</link>
		<comments>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/07/3325/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 30 Jul 2009 00:37:44 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>MJG</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Surreal]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/?p=3325</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[He held the FridgePak plastic bag close up to his eyes, but he couldn&#8217;t see anything special. He saw no spark of life, no memory of love, nor any trace of meaning. He just saw the pulp of a heart....]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>6</slash:comments>
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		<title>Isidro&#8217;s Furnace</title>
		<link>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/05/isidros-furnace/</link>
		<comments>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/05/isidros-furnace/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 28 May 2009 00:16:42 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>MJG</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Surreal]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/?p=2682</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Isidro&#8217;s furnace demanded FBI agents, but he only fed it limestone and coke, sometimes Rice Crispies if it was good. In return, it fed his insanity. Neither got exactly what they wanted, but it was a happy enough arrangement for...]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>On the Raft</title>
		<link>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/05/on-the-raft/</link>
		<comments>http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/2009/05/on-the-raft/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 13 May 2009 22:40:49 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>MJG</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Surreal]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.michaeljohngrist.com/?p=2624</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I know you remember this. I woke up on the raft. I&#8217;d been sick. I&#8217;d been sick for weeks. Everything before was a delirious nightmare. The murders. The container. You. It was all merged into one with her singing lullabies...]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>6</slash:comments>
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