Home Fiction - Year III - Number 11 - January 2018

Fiction - Year III - Number 11 - January 2018

    CLAWS by Vincent Yu

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    CLAWSBy Vincent Yu  At first there was horror. Then relief, acceptance, love. When he was old enough to go to school his parents assured him he was normal and handsome...

    DAMAGE COLLATERAL by Susannah Luthi

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    DAMAGE COLLATERALby Susannah Louise part i We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide...

    FORREST HILLS by John Tavares

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    FOREST HILLSJohn Tavares After Ollie served nearly a full sentence, officials decided to release him from the juvenile detention facility early. They shortened his detention term after he helped...

    THE SALVATION OF JOHN AMBERT by Kenneth Vanderbeek

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    THE SALVATION OF JOHN AMBERTby Kenneth Vanderbeek “We live in a challenged world, where the lion is devouring the lamb.”The Reverend John Ambert put his sermon down for a...

    HEARTWOOD by Maryetta Ackenbom

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    HEARTWOODBy Maryetta Ackenbom Andy leaned back in his comfortable lawn chair. “Do you remember?” He turned to Sue, sitting beside him. “We were only 15, but already deeply in...

    MEETING MINUTES by Brooke Reynolds

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    MEETING MINUTESby Brooke Reynolds   Jessica Derby slipped into room A19 just in time. It was her first PTA committee meeting. She had no idea what to expect having just...

    DISSIDENTS by Michael Malloy

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    DISSIDENTSby Mike Malloy Calvin Conkling and Suzie Hatchet were strolling the warm paving stones of Almaty’s “Arbat,” the popular nickname for Zhibek Zholy, the pedestrianized central boulevard in Kazakhstan’s...

    A WEEKEND IN DECEIT by Brett Kaplan

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    A BAD MAN GOING THROUGH A SAD THINGby Alan Kulatti Her eyes were not blue. They weren’t green. Must’ve been brown. She had brown eyes and she called me...

    A BAD MAN GOING THROUGH A SAD THING by Alan Kulatti

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    A BAD MAN GOING THROUGH A SAD THINGby Alan Kulatti Her eyes were not blue. They weren’t green. Must’ve been brown. She had brown eyes and she called me...

    PLIE, ADJUST, TUNDU, TAP by Jean E. Verthein

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    PLIE, ADJUST, TUNDU, TAPby Jean E. Verthein Three in the morning. The phone rang. It did, didn’t it? After all, detectives called for midnight lineups to check whether the...