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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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It’s a smoldering night in the South.  It’s summer.  That means it’s real heat.  It’s thick air you breathe.  The air is the only sweet thing in this life and even then, when you take it in, the dirt comes with it.  It burns while going in and inflames your insides.  That’s how the devil gets in.  Now, the devil’s been next to me my whole life but we’ve really been dancing since about 6:25 this evening. He started his whispers when I was walking in from the store.  I had those groceries in my hands all propped and balanced.  Then he makes me miss a step and BAM!  Groceries fly everywhere while I fall. I hit my palms on the cement and raw them up a bit.  I try to pile the groceries back into the bag and the next thing I know, Roy’s at the top of his…