Home NonFiction - Year III - Number 16 - September 2018

NonFiction - Year III - Number 16 - September 2018

    IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH By Emily Wanko

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    IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTHby Emily Wanko   This is that thing you see in the news, and you think, “That will never happen to me”. Your mind has to disassociate yourself from it in order...

    THE CHURCH By Marc Frazier

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    THE CHURCHBy Marc Frazier             Et cum spiritu tuo, Habemus ad Dominum, Dignum et justum est. The sound of Latin phrases echo in my head as I sit in class trying to attend to Sister’s geography lesson. I’m...

    CLOSING TIME by Sidney Burris

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    CLOSING TIMEby Sidney Burris I’ve been obsessing recently about eschatology, the kind of word you shouldn’t use in a first sentence.  It’s too stuffy.  But I’m obsessing about it because I’ve reached that stage in...

    FULL CIRCLE By Jim Bolone

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    FULL CIRCLEBy Jim Bolone Maybe it was fate that the transfer to public school from parochial school marked a first and a last in my family. I was the youngest of seven to attend the...

    BECKY AND AMY By Kate LaDew

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    BECKY AND AMYBy Kate LaDew  You were doomed, of course (the two of you) from the beginning.  But you had to live out those years (eleven for her, eighteen for you) before you ever knew...

    TWENTY FIRST CENTURY SLAVES By Naya Antoun

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    TWENTY FIRST CENTURY SLAVESby Naya Antoun Despair, loss, feeling hopeless, being abandoned. Those are a few words to describe my nannie’s childhood.At the age of twelve, she was obligated to surrender her education, and simply...

    DISCLOSURE By Megan Sandberg

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    DISCLOSUREby Megan Sandberg My instinct was to leave. I did, at first. I got out of my car and sped across the parking lot into the lobby of a Marriott Hotel. Keeping my swollen eyes...

    THE EXTRAORDINARY INFLUENCE OF THE MOORS ON SPAIN

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    THE EXTRAORDINARY INFLUENCE OF THE MOORS ON SPAINby Dr. Raymond Fenech “The reins of their horses were as fire, their faces black as pitch, their eyes shone like burning candles, their horses were swift as...

    BUSHKILL By Ingrid Blaufarb Hughes

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    BUSHKILLby Ingrid Blaufarb Hughes Just past the Bushkill Creek we turn off Route 209 and I lead Jay into the deep shade of sheltering trees to walk the gravel road I know by heart, every...