Nonfiction

    SAN BERNARDINO – By Taylor Hall

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    SAN BERNARDINOBy Taylor Hall I ask if she minds if I kiss her, and she says she doesn’t. She never minds, big eyes always fixed on the sky, or...

    WE ARE THE BUFFALO – By Kaylynn Raschke

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    WE ARE THE BUFFALOBy Kaylynn Raschke “Are you sure this is it?”  The cab driver points to a thin white sign, St. Cloud. Hardly visible, as it melds into the predawn sky of...

    THE SHOW MUST GO ON – By Sally Miller

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    THE SHOW MUST GO ONBy Sally Miller In 1983, when I was ten years old I performed in the best original (very) off Broadway production our family living room...

    THE BLUE-BLOODED PANTHER OF BANGALORE – By Brennen Fahy

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    THE BLUE-BLOODED PANTHER OF BANGALOREBy Brennen Fahy My grandfathers house sat on a foundation of thick granite stones. It had a winding staircase and many rooms filled with intricate...

    STRINGS IN OUR HANDS – By Erin Conway

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    STRINGS IN OUR HANDSBy Erin Conway I sat on Oscar’s front step in Guatemala, holding his daughter after her first birthday party.  After almost three years of Peace Corps...

    THE PRICE OF GINGER – By John Davidson

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    THE PRICE OF GINGERBy John Davidson “Have time for a story?” The driver looked over his shoulder. It was after midnight. After three in the time zone where I had...

    CICADAS – By Katy Major

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    CICADASBy Katy Major  If you live somewhere in the stretch between northeast Ohio—that’s where I am—and northwest Virginia, I don’t have to tell you: the fifth brood has emerged....

    SCREW, BUTTON, POTATO – By Jill Jepson

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    SCREW, BUTTON, POTATOBy Jill Jepson  The child has hair the color of butter and a bruise on her knee. She is sitting in flowered cotton pajamas on the linoleum floor of the small...

    THE COUNTRY OF THE PAST – By Michelle Cacho-Negrete

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    COUNTRY OF THE PASTBy Michelle Cacho-Negrete My husband Kevin and I drift along the Finnish-Russian border as though suspended on the edge of a dream, my dream of Russia,...

    FALLING FROM GRACE – By Ron McFarland

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    FALLINGS FROM GRACEBy Ron McFarland The little priest came from Ghana and had retired but remained active at Grace Episcopal in Oak Park, an upscale Chicago suburb where the...