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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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The tide was up on the beach. It covered the mud flats. Sandworm bait diggers leave by early morning. So Carl and Lorenzo, carrying a bucket and a large plastic spade, stood out.  Long grey flannel trousers supported by wide red braces over tucked-in yellow vests weren’t anglers’ attire either. The two men, in their late sixties, looked like over-sized versions of kids already on the beach with smaller copies of their tools. Animated conversation and laughter flowed between them while they sat on the sand. So much so they hadn’t noticed a couple of late teenage lads taunting them. One called out, ‘Give us your bucket and spade, pops. We’ll build a sand castle for you.’ He was tall, and the aggression came naturally to him. Without turning, Carl told him to clear off. The boy repeated his words, but this time as a demand. Carl stood up to…