Home Fiction - Year V - Number 42 - November 2020

Fiction - Year V - Number 42 - November 2020

    PANOPTICON by Cat Sole

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                It was quiet under the water.             The tepid bathwater made Mina feel weightless. Her hands bobbed next to her, not touching her skin, not feeling the shape of her stomach or her hips...

    THE SITE by Katie Kopacz

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    The Site The Metro North train lurched from side to side as it accelerated, wheels squealing, out of Grand Central station and into the dark tunnel. She, Essie, was accustomed to the rattling banshee scream...

    GONE WITH A TRACE by Ashley Jones

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    Gone with a Trace by Ashley Jones    “Ahh!”, I said. A piercing scream escapes my mouth.    My fate is sealed just like Monica. It all started with that damn box. Time stopped. Dusty orange strawberry...

    AGAINST ALL ODDS by Michael Emeka

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    Against All Odds By Michael Emeka The first time I saw Chetachi after she moved into our house, she was in the backyard, brushing her teeth. Even through the toothpaste foam, I could tell she had...

    HER PINK ROSE TEACUP by Lisa Reily

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    Her Pink Rose Teacup Steve was just another in a long line of men. But he was kinder somehow. So Gemma married him. She felt nothing on their wedding day and just went through the...

    DIXON RIDGE by Jim Woessner

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    A brass bell suspended in a wooden frame stands in a square of hard-packed yellow dirt about the same area as a two-car garage. They call it a park, but it’s not much of...

    ALL FLOWERS MUST EVENTUALLY WILT by Natalie Hampton

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                All flowers must eventually wilt.             Sweat clings to his pasty skin, pooling at the base of his back. Are his hands too clammy? Is his face pallid and sickly? And why does he...

    WHERE THE MONEY ISN’T by Ron Singer

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                                                                                                             Where the Money Isn’t                                                                                Ron Singer              “Because that’s where the money is,” was either Willie “The Actor” Sutton’s reply to some journalist’s softball question, “Why do you rob banks?” --or fake...

    PULPIT ROCK: A REVERIE IN THREE ACTS by Roger McKnight

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    Pulpit Rock: A Reverie in Three Acts Roger McKnight                I Hank Standish saved his and Hanna’s serving cup after City bus 12 rammed a curb, but nothing stopped the chocolate sundae from swishing onto her white...

    SKELETONS IN THE CLOSET by Brandy McKay

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    Skeletons in the Closet Sometimes families have secrets.  And sometimes curiosity gets the better of folks.  I was maybe eight or nine. One thing for sure, the age of reason hadn’t kicked in yet. In...