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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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I am not sure if I love you. But, the thing is, I am supposed to love you. After fourteen years of concealed existence wherein I have struggled to comprehend the complicated labyrinth of human relationship, I am pushed to the forefront of a hospital room and told that you belong to me. But I don’t know how you belong to me. You could be an aunt, a sister, a relative, or even a cousin. Except you look too old to be a cousin. I turn around suddenly, my fingers groping for the warmth of parental presence. But suddenly the two individuals who have put clothes on my back and food in my mouth seem to have stepped away. They say that they were merely pretending to be my parents all this while. As I am pushed closer to you, I notice the way your eyes open. The whites of…