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Exploring the art of prose

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SHORT STORIES

Body Language by Tian Yi

October 2, 2020

  My mother has become a shadow. I wake to find her leaning over me, a dark blur, the edges of her just visible in the thin morning light that filters into the tent. It feels early, but I can…

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Ariel by Jinwoo Chong

September 25, 2020

  At nine years old you pin him to the soil, knees around ribs, center your two fingers together between his eyes and shout bang, bang, you’re dead, you’re fucking dead. He is writhing, trying to escape you; your sounds…

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Yo Te Veo by Rachel Pollon

September 18, 2020

  It’s hard to make out what language they’re speaking. At first glance I think they might be Italian. But as I eavesdrop further, take them in from behind my hopefully opaque-enough sunglasses, I realize I’m mistaken. None of the…

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Mule by Elie Piha

September 11, 2020

  Nobody had ever given me anything before, so I didn’t care that the car was a piece of shit. I didn’t care that it was a two-timer, twice handed down, first from me and Davis’s old squad leader to…

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Swim by Ambata Kazi-Nance

August 14, 2020

  I am the last to see the water. I look up only when John Jr. and Grace stop singing, their voices sucked up suddenly like they’ve been swallowed by a vacuum. Ms. Laura turns from the front passenger seat…

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Silverfish by Christina Perez Brubaker

July 31, 2020

  When James’s wife, Lauren, discovered two silverfish in their seven-year-old daughter’s bed, she’d placed the insects in a jelly jar. They waited on the counter beside his morning cup of coffee. Prehistoric, she called them, and he had to…

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Summer Night by Joanna Pearson

July 24, 2020

  They slept much better using a disc-shaped noise machine from which they could select a variety of soothing sounds: Ocean Waves, Birdsong, Tropical Breeze, Summer Night. They always chose Summer Night, so whatever season it was or should have…

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On the Universal Rights of Ducks and Girls by Tara Campbell

July 10, 2020

Thank you for your e-mail informing us of the incident that has upset your daughter Dolores.

What you describe in your e-mail as “duck rape” must have been bewildering for a young lady to see for the first time, but I assure you that it is a natural process….

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Interiors by Mike Corrao

June 18, 2020

  I prepare my tools for the excavation. Placing the suspect object onto a sterilized operating surface and unpackaging fresh picks and scalpels. It is 4.3 x 7 x 1.2 inches. A small rectangular stack of papers bound together. With…

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Origami Dogs by Noley Reid

May 22, 2020

  Iris Garr rose at four every day before school to feed and water the dogs in the barn. They weren’t hers. They would never be hers. She used to beg—how old had she been then? She didn’t remember it,…

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