Home Fiction - Year III - Number 14 - July 2018

Fiction - Year III - Number 14 - July 2018

    OUR SALLY by Ruth Deming

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    OUR  SALLYby Ruth Deming  Over the years, The Newman Girls followed the fortunes of their next door neighbors in Shaker Heights, the fashionable suburb of Cleveland, Ohio. It was...

    REVENGE by George Carlisle

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    REVENGEby George Carlisle Jon Corey was my nemesis. He lay sprawled across from me with his arm around Jenny, who was his girl friend.  Jon, my nemesis, was the...

    HOW YOU RIDE IT! By Dave Barrett

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    HOW YOU RIDE IT(Chp. 16 of Gone Alaska)by Dave Barrett       That evening, towards eight o’ clock, Swanson slipped out back and announced a change of plans.     “Haul in the...

    TRADIO by Richard Luftig

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    TRADIOby Richard Luftig I stubbed out my tenth Winston of the morning. Thank God we were nearing the end of the show.            “We’re back,” I said, feigning enthusiasm.  “Time...

    A GOOD SLEEPER by Keith Jenereaux

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    A GOOD SLEEPERby Keith Jenereaux     The condensation that crept from the bottom of the window was high enough to hide the small front yard from Holly. Any other time...

    DEATH ENTERS THE ROOM by Elaine Rosenberg Miller

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    DEATH ENTERS THE ROOMBy Elaine Rosenberg Miller “Did you hear that?”“What?” he said, his voice muffled by a pillow. The children were finally asleep. They followed...

    DAGGER by Maureen Grace

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    DAGGERby Maureen Grace “Ohhh,” he cried quietly, so as not to scare off the passers by; their handouts had allowed him to eek out the barest of succor for...

    HIT MEN HAVE FEELINGS TOO by Edward D. Hunt

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    HIT MEN HAVE FEELINGS TOOby Edward Daniel Hunt Boston’s North EndAfter dropping his boss, Albee, at home in Milton, Tony Gazzo returned to the North End. Albee Parillo after...

    THE NEVER-ENDING WINDOW by Matt Ingoldby

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    THE NEVER-ENDING WINDOWby Matt Ingoldby It was sometime in April when I returned from the clinic for a period of rest. My uncle had agreed to pay rent in...

    A RECURRING DREAM by Ana Vidosavljevic

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    A RECURRING DREAMby Ana Vidosavljevic Mila woke up to the sound of Fajr prayer. It was still pitch-dark outside. She came close to the window and pulled back the...