Fiction - Year III - Number 12 - April 2018

    DEICIDAL SECOND GRADER by Juan Villagomez

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    DEICIDAL SECOND GRADERby Juan Fernando Villagomez I never went to church before my first week in Catholic school. The student body attended mass every Friday, and before the first service that year, Sister Juanita talked...

    ON THE STAIRS by Alex Lobera

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    ON THE STAIRSby Alex Lobera I met him on the stairs. I had never seen him before, and never saw him again. It was unusual to meet him there, because I never met anybody on...

    MEADOWS by Whitney Judd

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    MEADOWSby Whitney Judd "Lenore, Sing!  Hang your head out the window! Sing! Look, here we are!""We're not there yet, Momma." The girl, still thick and slow with sleep, hung her hand out the window into...

    CANDY IN THE VOID by Russ Bickerstaff

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    CANDY IN THE VOIDby Russ Bickerstaff Candy was slipping around at odd angles. It was difficult for her to find her footing in and midst all of the gravity that was going on. And there...

    ONE, TWO, THREE, BANANA by Robert Kirkley

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    ONE, TWO, THREE, BANANAby Bob Kirkley On the first Saturday of May, Barry's mother signed him up for soccer camp, the two-year-old class.  She sighed.  Now came the tricky part."Every Saturday morning at 10:30 in...

    BYRESH by Virginia Duke

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    BYRESHby Virginia Duke Byresh watched Katie scoot quartered hardboiled egg and cubes of ham to the side of her salad and squirt ranch dressing all over the top. She speared dripping olives, croutons, and cheese...

    VICISSITUDE by James Tucker

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    VICISSITUDEby James Tucker      “You can’t miss the giant weeping beech in the back yard”. Those are the last of the directions the landlord gave me. He was not wrong.The tree is a colossus demanding...

    FIRST SIP by Haley Biermann

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    FIRST SIPby Haley Biermann Everything is more charming in Harvard Square.  The thought occurs to me as I approach the wooden framed doors of the slightly curved Starbucks on Mass Ave.  Their two windows, like...

    A NATIVE AUSPICE by Joseph Garcia

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    A NATIVE AUSPICEby Joseph Garcia I can hear the teeth of the comb scrape against my scalp. I tightly clench my jaw without a sound to prove my grit to my father. His hair is...

    MEETING MELISSA by Edith Boyd

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    MEETING MELISSAby Edith Boyd             The  gate guard’s voice was different. Less deferential.“Mrs. Palmer, there’s a young woman named Melissa here to see you. ““Did she tell you her last name?” I said. “I don’t...