THIS IS NOT MY BEAUTIFUL HOUSE By Caleb Bouchard

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THIS IS NOT MY BEAUTIFUL HOUSEby Caleb Bouchard What does one wear to the estate sale and auction of a well-regarded Atlanta attorney turned wife-murderer? This is the question I ask myself at six-thirty on...

UNSENT LETTER – By Holley Hyler

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UNSENT LETTERBy Holley Hyler My Love,It is a sunny afternoon in late summer, and the world is alive with color that is doing its damnedest to chip away at my melancholy shield. Below me is...

MY SUMMER AS A RENT-A-COP By Joe Albanese

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MY SUMMER AS A RENT-A-COPBy Joe Albanese Amusement parks are only amusing to its employees in an ironic sense. My summer working there a s security guard in the summer of 2016 could be summed...

MY FATHER’S FEET by Ann Zuccardy

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MY FATHER’S FEETBy Ann E. Zuccardy   The cinderblock walls were painted what was probably supposed to be soothing blue and the windows, heavy and industrial, were swathed in cheerful, frayed calico.  The autumnal chill from...

WHAT I REMEMBER OF THE DRAGON by Kaylin Moore

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At nine years old, I was Hermione Granger. That all-too-familiar feeling of adrenaline and fear always seemed to creep in at the most inopportune times, that beast. It made my tiny hands shake at family...

MEMORIES OF BASEBALL By Daniel Bailey

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MEMORIES OF BASEBALLBy Daniel Bailey   I: Why Am I Telling You This?All right, everybody get this straight. This is a sensitive topic for me. I was 14. It was the summer of 1965, my second year...

THE MESSAGE FROM THE CROCHETED DRESS By Maggie Gleason

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THE MESSAGE FROM THE CROCHETED DRESSby Maggie Gleason I had been in San Cristobal de las Casas before. It’s a town with rectangular channels of short, rainbow colored buildings and cobble stone streets located in...

WRITER’S BLOCK AT ITS FINEST by Maria Fernanda

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Camille Bégin is an award-winning historian of food and the senses who turned to creative writing as she faced a formidable set of life-changing events. Her writing has most recently appeared in Gastronomica. Born...

REAL IS THE RARER THING By Roger Topp

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REAL IS THE RARER THINGby Roger Topp “It’s near checkout time and I need to escape the hotel without paying.” Imogen has abandoned me, never returning to the room last night. I send the text...

GRAND DESIGN By Steven Markusen

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GRAND DESIGNby Steven Markusen An insistent voice brought me out of the void and darkness.“What is your name? Where are you?”My eyes opened to see a chiseled face with furrowed brow. Pain stabbed my side....