Home Fiction – Year VI – Number 49 – June 2021

Fiction – Year VI – Number 49 – June 2021

    MORE by Karole Bennett

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                The cold metal table pressed into my back, and the cork, water-stained, ceiling loomed over me. A lightbulb dangled from a tarnished-brown chain. The dim light misted through the room, emitting a faint,...

    PETER-BY-THE-BAY by Thomas Belton

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    While others went to the Park to see and be seen, to flirt and promenade, Peter did not. He preferred to ride his bike past the long meadow where the soccer players were cursing...

    PARTNERS by Olga Collazo Perez

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                    Kimi bit her lip and did her level best not to jump at the sound of something slamming against the counter behind her.   “You’re not welcome here!” said a deep and angry voice...

    DUBLINERS by Iva Cvjeticanin

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    It was the pink velvet dress. Evelyn held it up against her body slowly dancing with it while trying to avoid tripping over the boxes that filled her new apartment. “It was this dress,”...

    KEEPSAKES ARE TEMPORAL DEBRIS by Edie Meade

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    I comb, in lieu of packing, through a box of letters that’s been perched on the bedroom bookshelf since we leased this apartment two years ago. And although now is not the time, I...

    WILDERNESS by Sandra Perez

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                    She sits in the wilderness of her heart, once again balancing the dinner plate on the arm of the sofa, watching the six o’clock news. Sometimes she wipes away just a couple of...

    THE ELEVATOR by Rory Rimel

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    “Stop pressing all the god damn buttons, that’s not going to get us out of here any sooner.” said Richard. “I can’t help it; you know I hate enclosed spaces.” said Jamie. I wish we...

    HAPPY ANNIVERSARY by Trinity Summitt

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    The Smiths sat across the small, iron-legged table from one another, and Marilyn’s eyes were heavily focused on the smudged glass topper. She turned her gazed to the partially open sliding door that led...

    MOZART’S SONATA IN D MAJOR by Bo Kearns

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    Drawn by the prospect of publication, writers gathered at the conference in Malibu. A bespectacled woman, her gray hair uniformly curled under at the edges, stood and read from her work. “The mother left...

    AN ANGELS LAST GIFT by Matthew Fontenault

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                There was only one option; I had to save my platoon. I screamed with everything I had, "Grenade, everybody down!” Looking back at my best friend Johnny Boy, I tossed him my dog...