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Refugees in a Banana Republic
Literary

Refugees in a Banana Republic

Early dawn, when fog hung…

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A Day with Breanne Mc Ivor
Interview

A Day with Breanne Mc Ivor

Meet Breanne Mc Ivor. She…

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Nocturnal Conductions
Humor

Nocturnal Conductions

The first time it happened,…

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The Lady of the Water
Fiction

The Lady of the Water

I’d thought Central America would…

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Never Will I Leave Home
Literary

Never Will I Leave Home

You have not seen our…

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Two Blind Men
Flash Fiction

Two Blind Men

They knew well I was…

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An Interview with Ernest Brawley
Interview

An Interview with Ernest Brawley

Ernest Brawley, a native Californian,…

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Jed laid in bed half-awake, thinking about the words he was missing from his latest writings. That was part of the trouble those days. The other side of his bed where Selma used to lay was empty. His lover for so many years, gone for more days than he could count. He sat up and grabbed his IMoovOns from the bedside table, putting the large metal frames with tinted lenses over his eyes and attaching the sticky pads to his head. His therapist told him to reserve it for certain occasions, when needed most, as part of his healing process. Jed knew it wouldn’t last forever. Today it was deserved. He pushed the GO button on the left arm of the frames. Selma appeared next to him as though a television screen had been turned on, transmitting through thin air. A translucent pigment of light cast down from Heaven, he…