Home Fiction - Year III - Number 16 - September 2018

Fiction - Year III - Number 16 - September 2018

    THE MISSING MASTER by David McVey

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    THE MISSING MASTERby David McVey  The night before I addressed the conference, I was lying in bed in a tiny room in a Hall of Residence. I picked up my dog-eared copy of McDonnell and began to...

    THE THREE-MILE RACE by Clive Aaron Gill

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    THE THREE-MILE RACEby Clive Aaron Gill Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia, Africa   1959 All year I looked forward to Sports Day at Prince Edward Secondary School.At the start of the three-miler, I glanced at the winners’ podium a...

    MISS CRAMICKLE by Geoffrey Heptonstall

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    MISS CRAMICKLEby Geoffrey Heptonstall                                                                   How could I forget the year we were taught by Miss Amy Carmichael? I ask myself this because I heard news of her yesterday. How could I not remember her? But...

    SORTING THROUGH CLAMS by David Weinberger

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    SORTING THROUGH CLAMSby David H Weinberger I am sitting next to my father’s bed as he sleeps. He is ten days into Hospice care and has become frail since he discontinued treatment for his cancer....

    STRANGE FRUIT REVISITED by Alberto Ramirez

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    STRANGE FRUIT REVISITEDby Alberto Ramirez “What’s in Bisbee?” said Abigail.            “A fair question for a native Bostonian,” said CharlesHe poured himself a glass of Chardonnay and sat down beside her on the leather love seat.           ...

    THE PHOTOGRAPH by Marcella Meeks

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    THE PHOTOGRAPHby Marcella Simmons Last week, my husband Gene and I went to Santa Fe, New Mexico for our fifteenth anniversary. Santa Fe is where we met and we come back here every year. Gene...

    THEY SELL THEIR SOULS TO STRANGERS by Wendra Colleen

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    THEY SELL THEIR SOULS TO STRANGERSby Wendra Colleen When the Women of Bourbon Street become ghosts, they are the last to realize it. They’ve been tossed out and forgotten, yet when darkness returns to the...

    FAST LANE by Katie Rose

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    FAST LANEby Katie Rose I start slow, creepin’ down the dirt road in first gear, my bare foot just kissin’ the gas pedal. I need my fix though, so I press down harder on the...

    IT FEELS LIKE HOME TO ME by Julia Zwetolitz

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    IT FEELS LIKE HOME TO MEby Julia Zwetolitz   Home is not just the concrete building. It is also where family is and the memories that occurred in each house. I have moved three times and...

    NIGHT OWL by Robin Wyatt Dunn

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    NIGHT OWLBy Robin Wyatt Dunn  That all the last daylight should have passed;  not only in the sky but in our daydreams;  for night in slipping closer says we're freer than we were;  or more...