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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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With her arm inserted through a wicker basket’s handle, Kate carefully stepped over the shoreline’s rocks as water sloshed inches from her feet. Tied by a blue hair ribbon, her sandals hung around her neck. A cool, salty breeze that blew in from the Atlantic Ocean made her calf-length tie-dyed skirt billow above her knees like an adrift parachute. Free from being bound, her silver hair that reached to the middle of her back floated in the air around her. Sunlight glinted from the dancing web-like strands. Her scrubbed cheeks were ruddy from the assault of wind, weather and exertion. She bent down and lifted a dead puffin from where it had become lodged between two rocks and placed its limp, battered body in the basket with another puffin. She stood and looked out at the water, holding her hand above her eyes, shielding them from the sun and water’s…