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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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We were about to traverse the little bridge, one of the most beautiful spots around the flora park, when he said deeply, ‘Hey, can I ask a favor?’I hadn’t observed his baritone voice until now. It surprised me hearing him. Anyway, I nodded and asked, ‘What’s the favor?’ Then I gave him a reassuring hug. ‘The favor is:can you hug and kiss me when we get home? Not here. Not in public,’ he reminded me. His eyes were apologetic. ‘Ah, yes, my dearest. Sorry. Old habits die hard. You already said that to me a hundred times this morning,’ I laughed. ‘Just in case,’ he said plainly. His eyes gently warning me. I gave him my thumbs up. We trudged along the little bridge, enjoying its scenery, as it arched daintily like a rainbow among the bed of roses in various hues of yellow, red, and blue. He walked ahead…