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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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In the nineties, Singapore’s Mount Faber park had another name—lover’s park. In between evening breezes, the air sweltered, the young couple’s faces became enveloped by humidity, as if suffocated by hot breaths of the dense primordial vegetation. “Hurry up and follow me,” Hong said, shuffling his feet a few steps up the concrete stairway to the left, amidst the chirping, stridulating sound of the crickets. “Ouch,” Penny said. “Go gentle with my hand.” Hong couldn’t help it when he got excited, forgetting that Penny’s fingers suffered from arthritis. Hong was an ex-athlete, and the swollen joints in Penny’s fingers were due to autoimmune disease. “Sorry, we need to move fast, I’ll explain later.” Out of breath, they went behind the shrubs, a stone’s throw from the cable car station. “Why are we hiding?” Penny’s brows furrowed. “I saw the priest from your parish,” Hong whispered. Hong imagined the tungsten red…