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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 newspaper, dated 4 September 2004 lies open on the dining table. My eyes are riveted on the news item, “When a mother was made to choose between her two children.” I read the news slowly.`In Beslan, Russia,   ZalinaDzandarova cradled her son Alan as he slept with his small face buried against her stomach. He was the child that Dzandarova was able to save, the child she chose to save, really. It was the other one, little Alana, her six-year-old daughter, whose image tormented her: Alana clutching her hand, Alana crying and calling after her. Alana’s sobs disappearing into the distance as Dzandarova rushed out of Middle School No. 1 here on Thursday, clutching Alan in her arms. Guerrillas armed with automatic rifles and explosive belts allowed 26 women and children to leave. About a dozen mothers, like Dzandarova, were allowed to take only one child and forced to leave another…