Home Fiction - Year IV - Number 21 - February 2019

Fiction - Year IV - Number 21 - February 2019

    FLIPPING THE TORTILLA by Anita Haas

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    FLIPPING THE TORTILLAby Anita Haas “You have lived here in Madrid for twelve years?“ Cheryl eyed Peggy, challenge in her tone. “And married to a Spaniard? You must be...

    WILL I DIE OF HEAT STROKE? By Ruth Deming

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    WILL I DIE OF HEAT STROKE?by Ruth Z. Deming My metallic gray Nissan with its red racing stripe sped confidently into the parking lot of Staples, a seven-minute drive...

    THE KILLING OF AN ARDENT APPRENTICE by Sana Mojdeh

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    WILL I DIE OF HEAT STROKE?by Ruth Z. Deming My metallic gray Nissan with its red racing stripe sped confidently into the parking lot of Staples, a seven-minute drive...

    WHAT DID YOU SEE? By Joel Worford

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    WHAT DID YOU SEE?by Joel Worford It’s eleven P.M. and your hand is on your belt. You don’t see me. There are no streetlights in this neighborhood, so at...

    THE VEIL OF JUDGMENT by Pauline Duchesneau

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    THE VEIL OF JUDGMENTby Pauline Duchesneau The slam of the heavy steel door and the mechanized latching of innumerable locks dropped lead into my gut. I’d tried and failed...

    THE WALL BETWEEN US by John C. Weil

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    THE WALL BETWEEN USby John C. Weil  We walked with the wall between us, just as Robert Frost described.We picked up the stones, each of them still cold from the winter.I stopped a...

    ENCOUNTERS MAY BE PREDICTED by Paul Perilli

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    ENCOUNTERS MAY BE PREDICTEDby Paul Perilli Back then, whenever I was looking for something good to read, I went to Spoonbill & Sugartown over on Bedford Ave. There was...

    NO BETTER REASON THAN THIS by Torrie Jay White

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    NO BETTER REASON THAN THISby Torrie Jay White The cabin smells like my grandfather as a young man. Like my mother’s skin in her last days. Like the gunpowder...

    ALL OF NEPTUNE’S OCEANS by Rina Sclove

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    ALL OF NEPTUNE’S OCEANSby Rina Sclove Her hands are the only part of her that isn’t scarred.Everything else is marked, claimed, her skin varying shades of angry red and...

    GUILT MONOLOGUE by Don Dussault

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    GUILT MONOLOGUEby Don Dussault For me everything is in the present tense. Whatever whoever slips away into the past I yank it back. Here something of me thrives. And...