Fiction - Year II - Number 7 - Volume I - June 2017

    THE DESERT SWALLOWS THE RIVER – By Krista Diamond

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    THE DESERT SWALLOWS THE RIVERBy Krista Diamond   The waitress at the empty diner in Sanderson had fake nails on her fingers and a gun on her hip. I sat...

    SACRED GEOMETRY FOR ARIEL V – By Alex R. Encomienda

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    SACRED GEOMETRY FOR ARIEL VBy Alex R. Encomienda Sometimes life told stories in strange cases and the complexity of its subject was overlooked despite the story having a solid...

    THE MISSING STAR OF CANCER – By Heather Whited

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    THE MISSING STAR OF CANCERBy Heather Whited Augusta and Eleanor could see the lights on the Christmas tree through the fabric of the tent they had set up on...

    A WILDERNESS OF MONKEYS – By Robert McKean

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    A WILDERNESS OF MONKEYSBy Robert McKean It was my turquoise; I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor:I would not have given it for a wilderness of...

    THE RAIN – By Lao-Tzu Allan-Blitz

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    THE RAINBy Lao-Tzu Allan-Blitz The rain was coming down hard and clicked lightly and constantly against the glass.  The wind was blowing so strongly that it rushed the clouds...

    THE GLANCE OF ORPHEUS II – By Ted Morrissey

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    THE GLANCE OF THE ORPHEUS IIBy Ted Morrissey The City Athletic Club was more ornate than the Blackstone, more extravagant by the looks of its façade of brick and...

    PURBLIND – By Tara Fritz

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    PURBLINDBy Tara Fritz I had never been so cold before.I wanted to say it out loud, give voice to my restless thoughts, but I knew it would never be...

    GRAND LAKE – By Steven Sherwood

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    GRAND LAKEBy Steven Sherwood Not three weeks ago Jim Pickett’s first love said she had fallen for some asshole accounting major named Vince.  Now she’s calling from a bus...

    KISS OF THE RED SERPENT – By Anselmo J. Alliegro

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    KISS OF THE RED SERPENT(excerpts from the novella)By Anselmo J. Alliegro  Witness to the Massacre Hugo Bosque left the shade of the sacred jungle he was...

    FOREIGN PASSAGES – By Joyce Polance

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    FOREIGN PASSAGESBy Joyce Polance As we thread through narrow alleys framed by walls without windows, their starkness interrupted by decrepit stalls hawking rotting vegetables and camel heads buzzing with...