Home Fiction - Year V - Number 36 - May 2020

Fiction - Year V - Number 36 - May 2020

    FOURTH OF JULY CONFESSION by Amber Brandau

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    FOURTH OF JULY CONFESSIONby  Amber Brandau The town’s streets were lined with American flags, signaling another Fourth of July was here. I walked down the old brick streets that...

    SPRING-HEELED JACK by Ernesto Ignacio Gomez Belloso

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    SPRING-HEELED JACKby Ernesto Ignacio Gomez Belloso  Gottfried and Freischütz were not artsy. They didn’t know the complexities of painting, nor did they ever bother to look into them. But...

    FROSTBITTEN PIEROGI by Jennifer Ostromecki

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    FROSTBITTEN PIEROGIby Jennifer Ostromecki  Inside our house I shiver while my breath fogs the window; I draw a cake with seven candles then wipe the pane before Mama notices....

    WAR IS NEVER OVER by Gail Finch

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    WAR IS NEVER OVERby Gail Finch  It was the summer of 1954. The screams of cicadas could be heard through the humid air of the twilight. Stars twinkled in...

    PAID HOLIDAY by Tina Zenou

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    PAID HOLIDAYby Tina Zenou  The green hills come rolling up towards us. Neat hedges of brambles divide them. In the distance the glitter of the ocean.I look at all...

    GREEN EYES by Miles Hall

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    GREEN EYESby Miles Hall  Every time he leaves the house, Nathan feels a pair of judgmental eyes damning him for his sins. On Tuesday, when Nathan went outside to...

    CEDAR by Mike Dillon

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    CEDARby Mike Dillon  His eyes moved from the old, white wooden ceiling to the young hospice nurse with her back to him.“How long does it take to die?”She stopped...

    FRACTURE by Aubrie Artiano

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    FRACTURE by Aubrie Artiano It’s Saturday.When you draw back the curtain, morning light, grey and harsh as soot, pours in. Condensation coats your window. Outside, murky...

    WINSOME GOES TO TEACHER’S COLLEGE / from The Guarded Virgin by Yvonne Blackwood

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    WINSOME GOES TO TEACHER’S COLLEGE / from The Guarded Virginby Yvonne Blackwood  I’m standing on the verandah looking across the meadow, off into the coming dawn. The night sounds remain...

    GRETA by Susanne Roff

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    GRETABy Susanne Roff I met Greta in prison. She’d got five years and was two thirds of her way through them. We met on the industrial cleaning course of...