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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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The ring of the bell came like a hard shove, tipping June off her imagination into the decaying, wooden walls of the bar. She looked over at the figure and immediately got to pouring cheap rum into a mug. It was what he always ordered. She pressed her palms to her dress, wiping off her fear and disgust for the man, and prepared herself for his intruding touches. It’s what he always did. He bared his teeth at her in a smile more feral than human. She smiled tightly and pretended to go back to wiping the coffee rings off of the countertop. “Your dad ain’t here today?” She had no idea where her father was but she knew better than to say that. “He’s out in the back fixing the broken tables.” She prayed he hadn’t spotted her father lying drunk in an alley somewhere. “You should let your…