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

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

    THE CUT DOWN By Dalton Bryan Monk

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    THE CUT DOWNBy Dalton Bryan Monk Duane Bryan Monk has no idea I’ve written this, and I intend to keep it that way. I wasn’t told that I had to embark on my dad’s tedious vocations,...

    HUNGER PANGS IN AN AMERICAN HOME By Danielle Richardson

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    HUNGER PANGS IN AN AMERICAN HOMEBy Danielle Richardson I am not a part of his American dream.I watch as my father presses another burger to the grill, the smell of smoke and oil filling up...

    THE WORLD’S SEXIEST TIME MACHINE By Dominic Laing

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    THE WORLD’S SEXIEST TIME MACHINEBy Dominic Laing  Imagine my love as a piece of string. As a timeline.Hold out the string in front of you. Your right hand marks The Future; your left hand, The...

    UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE By Jonathan McRay

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    UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREEBy Jonathan McRay  ABU SHADI SITS in his plastic chair like a king at his castle. But he does not reign over subjects like a monarch. Maybe he is master of his...

    BREEZE FACE By Ape Biggles

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    BREEZE FACEBy Ape Biggles When I was twelve years old, I was sitting behind my mom in my parents’ Cutlass Ciera on a delicious summer day, my father driving, the three of us cruising down...

    FIRST CLASS by Vern Fein

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    FIRST CLASSBy Vern Fein    Later I would be chosen as the first Rhetoric teacher to be awarded an Honors Seminar. Earlier I had substitute taught about one of my favorite topics—The Theater of the Absurd—in...

    GROWN-UP CHILD By Idalis Nieves

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    GROWN-UP CHILDBy Idalis Nieves  It’s been almost four months since I’ve read a book for pure leisure. It’s been almost a year since I’ve enjoyed a movie or TV show without analyzing the symbolism, themes,...

    BOOK COLLECTING AS A SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE By Fred White

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    BOOK COLLECTING AS A SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE By Fred White  “Welcome to the Cemetery of Forgotten Books, Daniel. . . . Every book, every volume you seehere, has a soul. The soul of the person who wrote...

    TRAINS by Donna Stramella

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    TRAINSBy Donna Koros Stramella Growing up, we visited two houses on Christmas Eve. But we were only allowed to talk about one.After my dad arrived home from work, we drove through the oil-stained Baltimore Harbor...