Home Fiction - Year V - Number 39 - August 2020

Fiction - Year V - Number 39 - August 2020

    YOUNG MAN’S SLAVE by Bo Fisher

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        Young Man’s Slave There’s a security car that passes the house every three hours. It makes a slow left hand turn about the cul-de-sac at the end of Poplar Hill Loop before retracting its path...

    LOVE AND REBIRTH by Esther Neema

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    LOVE AND REBIRTH The bell was ringing. They heard it! It was grand! Three times it rung! Each time it rung louder than the last. Gong! Gong! Goooooong! “Another one has died!” Bibi whispered, as...

    SKELETON IN THE CESS PIPE by Max Watt

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    It was chaos in the close quarter lodgings. No matter where Mirka went people threatened one another and fought over scraps of food. Father had told him that it was where the hopeless gathered....

    NUCLEAR GEOPOLITICS AND PLATO by Gracjan Kraszewski

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    NUCLEAR GEOPOLITICS AND PLATO  in a Bunker thirty feet below ground,  100 years in the future By Gracjan Kraszewski Trends...

    RIVER RUN by Gary James Erwin

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    River Run Thighs burned. Cold air stung his throat. Beneath his knee caps, buried inside the knotof ligaments, muscle and bone, something clunked rhythmically with each step. Reachingdown, he...

    WHEN SUSAN MET BECCA by Carolyn Linck

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    When Susan Met Becca Even in her kitten heels, Susan O’Leary swayed softly like the couples on the dance floor, as Etta James’s “At Last” blared from the sound system. She walked across the lawn...

    INTIMATE by Susie Gharib

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    Intimate “I wanted to intimate something and not to be intimate,” I explained with a bitter grin. He always boasted about his excellent command of English but that sex-charged adjective that resembled a verb he had...

    PLEASANTNESS by Peter Able

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    Pleasantness by Pete Able I took my wife out on the town. It was the same old town but a new restaurant we hadn’t been to before. An experience that I hoped would slightly expand our...

    PLAYING FROG by Cathy Adams

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    Playing Frog Justin wanted to get up from the floor board, but the game wasn’t over. He was still the turtle, and until Maggie called “frog” he had to stay there or he wouldn’t get...

    STILL LOVE by Jennifer Swallow

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    Still Love By Jennifer A Swallow We were in the kitchen when it happened. Mitchell was sautéing some shrimp to put on a salad while I was looking through the wine fridge for the perfect bottle...