Fiction - Year IV - Number 22 - March 2019

    MEANINGLESS by David Norwood

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    MEANINGLESSby David Norwood I looked forward to when the grounds across campus were cut. It happened every two weeks, and today was one of those days, and it just so happened to be the last...

    HOW NOT TO BE TWENTY-THREE by Mitch

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    HOW NOT TO BE TWENTY-THREEby Mitch The peck on my neighbor’s lips from the morning after turns into a full-blown make out session. She heads to work as I crawl back to my bed –...

    TOMMOROW by Naethan Pais

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    TOMMOROWby Naethan Pais His eyes opened rather swiftly for a man his age. It was painful. The sudden overload of information flooding through, rendering his surroundings as smoked glass. His frail frame rose up, painfully,...

    LOSING THE LOTTERY by Bailey Cook Dailey

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    LOSING THE LOTTERYby Bailey Cook Dailey I dealt to the hook-handed man first. Single deck Blackjack. He was the only player at the table. He was on a hot streak winning what felt like four...

    ANCHORS AWEIGH by Alan Berger

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    ANCHORS AWEIGHby Alan Berger We told and tell people we met in Church.At St. Patrick’s Cathedral yet.That would be a falsehood, but she liked saying it. She called herself “A romantic embellisher”.We met within sighting...

    MINOR KEYS by Eric Stevens

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    MINOR KEYSby Eric Stevens How DARE she yell at me like that! That bitch! Sophie walked down the sidewalk next to her apartment, earbuds placed firmly and playing nothing. She wore her sunglasses, though it was...

    THE GREMLIN IN THE BALCONY by Jonathan Baker

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    THE GREMLIN IN THE BALCONYby Jonathan Baker Today ought to be like any other Wednesday for Jackson Tolliver. He will leave his office at five-thirty on the dot and ride the train uptown to his...

    THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE by Jeremy Townley

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    THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICEby Jeremy Townley Look at all them ingrates.  I mean, just look at ’em.  Stuffing their fat-pig faces with prime rib and red wine like the world owes them something.  Ain’t...

    NO SCUM by Michael Stanek

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    NO SCUMby Michael C. Stanek   Klaus knew somebody had been there. The signs his commanding officer told them to look for were everywhere. Folded clothing washed to death, unsoiled, stale, scattered across the bed possibly for...