Home Fiction - Year III - Number 9 - Volume Two - September 2017

Fiction - Year III - Number 9 - Volume Two - September 2017

    A TREE NOW DEAD by Skyler Nielsen

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    A TREE NOW DEADBy Skyler Nielsen A tree acted as the council rooms eastern wall, and it was dead.  Poisoned the morning Mr. Nunn opened up on it with the old family rifle.  Every so...

    THE AUCTION by Amanda N Jourdan

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    THE AUCTIONby Mandi Jourdan She must have had grandchildren.That was the only explanation I could offer for the white plastic car with the blue-and-red stripes sitting atop one of the cardboard boxes on the lawn. ...

    THE OTHER SIDE by Danielle Richardson

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    THE OTHER SIDEBy Danielle Richardson I watch as Lucy stops in front of me like she does every day, her little ten-year-old head cocking to the left in curiosity. But her curiosity will not be...

    DERB JOSSI by Lisa Brognano

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    DERB JOSSY(excerpt from the novella, The Jossy Farm)By Lisa Brognano Derb walked across the acreage through a wild patch of light green stems but the orange flowers were closed in triangular shapes anticipating the storm.  He...

    FOR BOTH TOGETHER by Mather Schneider

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    A MEETING IN BROOKLYNBy Jayno Miches In retrospect, he wished it had not occurred to him to ask that fellow any questions. But then again, he also now wished he had asked his questions and left...

    ADELE by Brenna Lemieux

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    ADELEBy Brenna Lemieux On the morning of Christmas Eve, Adele wakes to see a handwriting in front of the clock: Myra and Rob home, it tells: Yes! But when did they? She chews her knuckle: Myra...

    THE THINGS PEOPLE SAID WERE ALWAYS ABOUT THEMSELVES

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    THE THINGS PEOPLE SAID WERE ALWAYS ABOUT THEMSELVESBy Jamey Johnson Genna      A poet picked her up at a reading.  She was new to this--married twice and most of her adult life, freshly divorced.  Well, not...

    THE ORPHANAGE by Laura Solomon

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    THE ORPHANAGEBy Laura Solomon I took the job in the orphanage on a whim.  I lived in Peckham and had been working in a café in East Dulwich.  Walking home from work one evening I...

    VOID by Jonathan Maniscalco

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    VOIDBy Jonathan Maniscalco  The first thing Jack did was open the window. August’s hot, humid air mixed with the downtown smell of Boston’s Washington Street drifted into his dry apartment. He looked out at the...

    SKATEBOARDS AND A SHEEPDOG by Carolyn L. Bell

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    SKATEBOARDS AND A SHEEPDOG By Carolyn Light Bell Gus leaps three feet in the air, his open mouth appearing dangerously close to my face. “Out for a walk? I can’t contain my joy!” he barks, leaping...