WHAT WE’VE KNOWN ALL ALONG by Conor Mulvaney

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Title: What We Knew All Along It has been a long, preventable, predictable four years. This isn’t an essay about vindication. This is an essay about defeat. By Conor Mulvaney On November 7th, 2016, at 5:03PM, I...

TASTING NOTES by Shanti L. Nelson

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We’re deep into our routine when quarantine hits. Once a week, chocolate cake and instant coffee. Black with two white sugars, never brown. He’s always taken it this way. “Since the war.” Since his...

THE EXTRAORDINARY INFLUENCE OF THE MOORS ON SPAIN

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THE EXTRAORDINARY INFLUENCE OF THE MOORS ON SPAINby Dr. Raymond Fenech “The reins of their horses were as fire, their faces black as pitch, their eyes shone like burning candles, their horses were swift as...

DEAR MOM… by Rachel Davey

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There are birds in the trees, can you hear them? The little black birds; they sit right outside the window of my apartment. They keep me company when I feel alone, which is not...

I PLANNED MY FUNERAL WHEN I WAS A CHILD by Reece Caven

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I planned my funeral when I was a child. I know how that sounds. It’s not like that. It wasn’t a practice in suicidal contemplation. I’m not eager for it, I just know how...

DEAR CHEATER, TELL ME WHY by Ben D’Andrea

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Cheating on an exam is more of a strike against self-respect than failing it by honest effort. Most college or university students who cheat resent cheating, as if someone or something pressured them into...

WHERE IS THE LOVE by Renata Hinrichs

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Where is the love?   “This time of year makes me feel sentimental.” Dad said.  “How do you mean?” I ask. “Remember, in Chicago, when you kids were small? Those are my favorite memories of Christmas.”  “Yes, mine too....

TWO DAYS IN BANGKOK by Teresa Yang

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Two Days in Bangkok Two days before my flight to Thailand, the phone rang. “Terry…” my father’s voice wavered. In our family, phone calls were always unidirectional, from child to parent. “Your mother’s not talking,” he said....

HOME AND THE WORLD by Michael Mooring

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Home and the World “To be a mass tourist, for me, is to become a pure late-date American: alien, ignorant, greedy for something you cannot ever have, disappointed in a way you can never admit....

EXOTIC FLOWERS By Zac Pingle

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EXOTIC FLOWERSBy Zac Pingle Chapter One: Before the SummerWarm winds rolled in from the south just before the summer. In the afternoon dew would still linger on blades of grass, and grasshoppers would sing. Clouds...