Posts Tagged Fiction

Femme Fatale

by Rudy Ravindra While taking a short cut through a lush wooded park to the swimming pool, Rahul glimpses, through haze of the morning fog, a divine damsel in a diaphanous dress, swaying gently on a swing. Her thick tangled hair is pulled back with a white scarf, except for…

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A Sordid Affair

by Norman Klein Rita had been visiting her best friend, Jody, in New Hampshire, and two days into the visit Jody called Bill from the hospital. “When she arrived last night she didn’t look right, so I gave her some soup and put her to bed. But she was worse this morning,…

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Remembering You

by K. M. Frantz On the eve of your fortieth birthday, I sat and glanced at the chalkboard hanging on the wall adjacent to my chair. On its surface were colorful reminders I’ve left for my family—usually things pertaining to our day-to-day. Occasionally, I’d give a welcoming shout-out to a visiting…

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Tough

by Robert Kirk Scott Under the bed, in the dark, he remembered what it had taken to get him here. He remembered leaning back into the scratchy upholstery of the train seat, looking out the window at them, as the train lurched forward, ready to roll south. He didn’t believe…

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Booked Seats

by Elizabeth Penn Liz tapped her foot, checking the clasp again on her seatbelt which was pulled tightly across her gray pencil skirt. She tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear and smoothed down the lines on her floral blouse, trying to relax. Everyone had just finished loading the…

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For When You Ask What I Am

by Elaine Granados I am escaping into the hallway, letting #401’s door thud behind, closing on heavy heat open windows could never lift and the constant smell of black beans cooking, on sirens and horns of Koreatown (before Starbucks and Target on the corner), on the buzzing in my head,…

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To Be Forgiven

by Bonnie E. Carlson She dreaded having to make the amends, but it ate away at her. “It’s time,” her sponsor said. “Put on your big girl pants. You’ll feel better when it’s done.” In previous attempts at sobriety, Laurel had never gotten to AA’s steps eight and nine—make a…

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First Born

by Jeanne Althouse I was born in a hallway. My pregnant Mother had lovely brown hair curled in the style of Ingrid Bergman in the movie Casablanca. She defined her lips with dark red from a stick, her nose with loose white powder she stored in a gold case and…

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Mornings with Liam

by Terrence Litwiller Of all the benefits I’ve encountered since moving into “semi-retirement” earlier this year, the one I am most grateful for is my mornings at home with my now 20-month old grandson, Liam. My wife and I are blessed that for this time period he and his mom…

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Age for Sale

by Orlando A. Rebolledo I boarded the Ferris Wheel alone. My booth was clear glass all over. The door was more a hatch than a door. It closed, I sat, and the wheel went on. Tall buildings cowered into stumps, roads and highways sunk like trenches in the distance, and…

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