Fiction - Year IV - Number 25 - June 2019

    POSTERS by Catherine Link

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    POSTERSby Catherine J. Link             Maureen knew she shouldn't have let the kids go trick or treating by themselves.  She'd had a bad feeling about it, but when her eleven-year-old son, promising to take care of...

    BELFAST BLUES by Edith Tarbescu

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    BELFAST BLUESby Edith Tarbescu Ted told his brother he would fly over for the wake. He paid his landlady the next month’s rent on his flat in Queens, New York and flew to Dublin.  After...

    PLATYPUS by Peter Crowley

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    PLATYPUSby Peter Crowley One morning there was a platypus walking through our backyard. I awoke my wife and suggested that we take some photographs. She agreed and perched by the window, ready to snap pictures...

    THE BLOOD BEARER by Julian Darragjati

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    THE BLOOD BEARERby Julian Darragjati The clarinet bellowed a series of rippling tremolos, then broke into strident bursts before bleeding a woeful, as if unending wail.Edmond winced. He stood in line before a busy, prepaid...

    REFUSE by Kevin Haslam

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    A HARD CALL TO MAKEby Kristine Sarasin  Before she got to the restaurant Shyanne had thought that a pair of dark wash jeans, tiny black heels, and a white crop top was a perfectly fine...

    EXCHANGE OF WORDS by Gary Erwin

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    EXCHANGE OF WORDSby Gary J. Erwin We’d recognized the disparities in her speech the third day after hospital admission. “Mouth stick,” she’d murmured one morning during a brief moment of consciousness. She raised her limp...

    DREAMLESSNESS by Ivan De Luce

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    DREAMLESSNESSby Ivan De Luce Friday — Dreamt I was in love. I met her — Samantha — at a party, and we hadn’t seen each other in ten years. She hadn’t aged at all, but...

    A SACRED TRADITION by Paul Kivelson

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    A SACRED TRADITIONby Paul Kivelson Ricky was tall, and not just for his age. He could fit on his old bike only by bending his back up tight and pulling his hands in close. The...

    JUDITH by Chris Cooper

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    JUDITHby Chris Cooper My eyes fluttered open, catching the lurid glare from the remaining sunlight as it bounced off the windshield. I sat up in my seat, shielding my eyes from the repugnant rays with...

    TWENTY-FOUR HOURS IN PARIS by Eoin O’Donnell

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    TWENTY-FOUR HOURS IN PARISby Eoin O’Donnell Jeremy followed Rachel to Paris because he loved her. I followed Jeremy to Paris because I loved him. It was like a mini sex conga line gyrating its way...