Home Fiction - Year V - Number 36 - May 2020

Fiction - Year V - Number 36 - May 2020

    MESSINESS by Jahnavi Misra

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    MESSINESSby Jahnavi Misra   “Does this spark joy?” Nita kept asking herself.She went around the room, tripping on random items, picking up one thing after another – a figurine, a coaster, a vinyl –...

    THE BROKEN CONCERT by Mark Massaro

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    THE BROKEN CONCERTby Mark Massaro  Felix digs through his cramped, dank storage unit, pushing aside shoeboxes of photographs and rolled up concert posters, trying to find his cooler and...

    GRETA by Susanne Roff

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    GRETABy Susanne Roff I met Greta in prison. She’d got five years and was two thirds of her way through them. We met on the industrial cleaning course of...

    CEDAR by Mike Dillon

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    CEDARby Mike Dillon  His eyes moved from the old, white wooden ceiling to the young hospice nurse with her back to him.“How long does it take to die?”She stopped...

    HORSEBACK by Eric D. Goodman

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    HORSEBACKby Eric D. Goodman Dustin prepared the horses for another day of riding. The sun had barely risen, but he’d already put in a few hours. Earlier, he’d made...

    SPRING-HEELED JACK by Ernesto Ignacio Gomez Belloso

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    SPRING-HEELED JACKby Ernesto Ignacio Gomez Belloso  Gottfried and Freischütz were not artsy. They didn’t know the complexities of painting, nor did they ever bother to look into them. But...

    LINEMAN’S HUT NO. 13 by Magdalena Blazevic

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    LINEMAN’S HUT NO. 13by Magdalena Blazevic   The shadow is alive and Sofija knows she cannot run from it. The room's walls cannot soak it in, nor can the dark swallow it up. She...

    BETWEEN THE AISLES by Jessamyn Violet

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    BETWEEN THE AISLESby Jessamyn Violet  Fixation: An obsessive preoccupation.Sometimes, the only thing I can do to keep my mind off of him is to go shopping—mainly for cheap, useless...

    FROSTBITTEN PIEROGI by Jennifer Ostromecki

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    FROSTBITTEN PIEROGIby Jennifer Ostromecki  Inside our house I shiver while my breath fogs the window; I draw a cake with seven candles then wipe the pane before Mama notices....

    WAR IS NEVER OVER by Gail Finch

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    WAR IS NEVER OVERby Gail Finch  It was the summer of 1954. The screams of cicadas could be heard through the humid air of the twilight. Stars twinkled in...