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    NOTES FROM THE FATHER FIELD by Lisa Romeo

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    Notes from the Father Field by Lisa Romeo Though my father never touched the large-number cell phone I once gave him, I like to think that, if he’d lived longer, and had I the patience to...

    BREATHING ROOM by Diane Finlayson

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    Breathing Room The diagnosis: pneumonia. I receive it the day before my grandmother dies in 1987. I am in South Texas. She is in Omaha. I have inherited three...

    CHANGING THE SCORE by Natasha Rai

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    CHANGING THE SCORE ‘When trauma affects us, we can’t fully engage with the present.’ My therapist, Sue, sits back after this pronouncement, face brimming with empathic concern. I stare. What the hell is she talking about?...

    THE OIL FIELD By Edward Bonner

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    THE OIL FIELD   by Edward Bonner It wasn’t just life, this was our world.Rise and shine.Breakfast is at seven in the morning.“Cold cereal and then a dash out the door”Four of my friends and...

    I DREAMT I COULD NOT FIND MY CAR by James Hanna

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    I Dreamt I Could Not Find My Car by James Hanna             Mary and I sit on the back porch of our Florida...

    THE SAD, IRONIC FATE OF SULLIVAN BALLOU by Frank Emerson

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    THE SAD, IRONIC FATE OF SULLIVAN BALLOU Of all the letters associated with the American Civil War, two stand out as arguably the most beautiful and touching – certainly...

    THE MOST SCARIEST THING by Riley Winchester

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    The Most Scariest Thing I am obsessed with time. The obsession started my sophomore year of college when I had to take a science class with a lab in order to fulfill the science...

    THE RACIST INSIDE US, AN EVOLUTIONARY PERSPECTIVE by Bill Portela

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    The Racist Inside Us, An Evolutionary Perspective THE RACIST INSIDE US: AN EVOLUTIONARY PERSPECTIVE By Bill Portella Out of three-billion sequenced DNA codes in the human genome, chimpanzees share 99% of our hieroglyphs letter for letter. Would eyebrows...

    SHORT CIRCUIT by Robert Burns

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    Short Circuit Robert Burns The light extinguished, yet the kinetic shock surged to my feet. The amplitude waxed, like whipped rope, each stronger than the last....

    SLOWLY SLIDING by Jennifer Hildebrandt

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    December 29, 2016, Updated Death Wishes You don’t have to mourn or carry on or weep or pace. Get over it. I’m dying. Talk to me. Tell me to...