Home Fiction - Year III - Number 18 - November 2018

Fiction - Year III - Number 18 - November 2018

    THE HITCHHIKER by Joseph Washburn

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    THE HITCHHIKERBy Joseph Washburn I sat it in the passenger seat of the pickup, the August heat already making the outside unbearable. Slowly, I slid my hand under my...

    DUST by Maggie Slepian

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    DUSTBy Maggie Slepian I was at a stoplight, the one that never seems to be green no matter which direction you come from. It was the part of town...

    SOLO ACT by Malcolm Garcia

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    SOLO ACTBy Malcolm Garcia She holds a yellow feather.--Do you know anything about birds? she asks.He shakes his head, no, and moves over to make room for her on...

    LAST NIGHT by Cassie Lawson

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    LAST NIGHTBy Cassie Lawson “Do you want to get high tonight?”I nearly dropped the receiver and choked on my Dorritos. “Wha- wait. What?”“I can come pick you up in...

    A ROOM FOR TWO by Cristina Oramas

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    A ROOM FOR TWOBy Cristina Oramas Sweat made her tight white dress cling to her curvy figure. “Why do you always make me meet you in such dingy motels?”...

    APPOINTMENT IN ZANESVILLE by Don Dussault

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    APPOINTMENT IN ZANESVILLEBy Don Dussault Bustling more than usual this morning, Thelma sets the omelet platter down hard before me and deftly slides an omelet into my plate, then...

    UNDER THE FLOORS OF CHURCHES by Libby Copa

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    UNDER THE FLOORS OF CHURCHESBy Libby Copa She had not wanted him to come with her to the wedding in the first place. That morning as Maren lay naked...

    QUEEN’S GAMBIT by Lazar Trubman

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    QUEEN'S GAMBITBy Lazar Trubman “I’m not particularly against telemarketers, but if they could only use a little more improvisation,” says Bill Stubbs setting out the chessmen for our usual...

    A GIRL DIED HERE by Kyle Labe

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    A GIRL DIED HEREBy Kyle Labe The cross is white. Her portrait embellishes the center, as if she’s crucified. As if she died so we can live. It’s on...

    HIS HOME by Effy Rose

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    HIS HOMEBy Effy Rose It’s the house I grew up in, but everything’s different. Forty years ago, I left it to care for itself, and I suppose it has....