I COULD ONLY HEAR HER SILENCE By Juanita Tovar Mutis

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HOLD HER ONCE AGAINby Juanita Tovar  IIt’s Saturday. Sábado. In the AM. The sky is a solid shade of light blue, unclouded and pristine. Its pastel hues are reflected on Juanita’s red sunglasses as she...

MYSTERIES OF ENGLISH CLASS: GANESH By Gregg Williard

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MYSTERIES OF ENGLISH CLASS: GANESHBy Gregg Williard   Today’s ESL class is a YouTube video of “How Ganesh Got an Elephant Head.” There are dozens of versions of the story from the Ramayana, Mahabharata and other...

THE CHIPPED-TOOTHED HEART By LaDonna Friesen

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THE CHIPPED-TOOTHED HEARTBy LaDonna Friesen   I pushed a button, and the rear van door beeped like a pulse. It felt hot enough inside it to be a heart. I loaded a couple cloth bags of...

NACHES By Jeffrey Loeb

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NACHESBy Jeffrey Loeb   West of the city the river road beckoned, all soft oak-leaves and ripening corn. It struck me as a place for reflection, so on impulse I cut north off the Interstate, over...

GOING HUNTING By Cynthia Close

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GOING HUNTINGBy Cynthia Close We were driving from Boston to my parent’s home in New Jersey. Pete had the rifle in the back of the van. It was Thanksgiving and deer season in Jersey. My...

A PISS ON THE CHEEK By Walker Thomas

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A PISS ON THE CHEEKBy Walker Thomas   My escape took me as far as Tucson, where I ditched the car and volunteered for the draft. I bussed to El Paso for basic training at Fort...

KILLINGS AND ABDUCTION By Tamas Dobozy

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KILLINGS AND ABDUCTIONBy Tamas Dobozy The summer of 1981 was the summer of murdered children.The bodies had been turning up for a year in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia, mainly the Vancouver area. Places...

VLAD, TEPES, THE IMPALER, THE SCOURGE OF THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE By Dr. Raymond Fenech

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CURTAINby Juliana Nicewarner “Love the art in yourself, not yourself in the art”– Stanislavski Act 1A thirteen-year-old girl takes her first step under stage lights. She’s blinded. She’s woozy. She had been practicing all day. She...

CURTAIN By Juli Nicewarner

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MY ANCIENT ENEMYby Daniel Bailey My Nijinsky bird-feet seemed to be going over well in our first conversation that fall afternoon in 1973. I called them that because my arches are so high my feet...

MY ANCIENT ENEMY By Daniel Bailey

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RESTLESS RAMBLINGSby Sara Magruder  Complete and Utter NonsenseI sit in the living room at 1:30 am and begin writing. I know I am going to be tired and cranky in the morning, but I can’t...