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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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They were eighteen, dark and green. Yet, they seemed as untold legends for me. Eighteen in all, gracefully they stood, erect and tall, in a row sprouting luxuriously. Such was the beauty commanded by the seventeen Debdarus and one Nageshwar in front of our quarters, in Arundhutinagar, that they evoked in a heart many a tranquil thoughts for reflections. A man without a name planted them within the police compound. And for seventeen seasons, our officer Shri B. K. Ray attended to them. Expansion of roads led to the retreating of the compound wall. So, they moved outside and stood as guard, proclaiming their gracious presence. No electric cable dared to pass overhead, so glorious were they. The majestic strength creates an awe and makes the hands tremble that think to harm them. These eighteen guard us and guard themselves. A day ago, a glance forty feet high as they…