Fiction - Year III - Number 16 - September 2018

    THE BIG MOVE by Maria Frangakis

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    THE BIG MOVEby Maria Valenzuela Frangakis After nine years in San Jacinto, without electricity and indoor plumbing, we were finally leaving. We were moving to la casita hermosa, the beautiful little house, as we called our future dwelling...

    MEDIEVAL MUSIC FROM MIDWESTERN UNIVERSITIES by Ted Morrissey

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    MEDIEVAL MUSIC FROM MIDWESTERN UNIVERSITIESBy Ted Morrissey An ER nurse called Frannie’s name, and she and Beth walked through the extrawide double doors which then swung closed behind them. He half dozed in the chair....

    THE BEES by Robby Pettit

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    THE BEESby Robby Pettit  Detective Earl Smith and his son sat in the cop car. The world outside was green and plastic, awash in yellow sunlight. No bird chirped, no blade of grass moved. The...

    THE SIREN by Eric Stevens

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    THE SIRENBy Eric Stevens The frozen wood of the bench on 7th Street was brittle and burned Steve’s thighs while he leaned to one side, watching the cars drive slowly through the icy slush. It...

    FLAGMAN by Ron Singer

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    FLAGMANby Ron Singer I must of seen this guy hundreds of times, but I still can’t believe him. First of all, he isn’t a dwarf or a midget (I think there’s a difference), but no...

    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....