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Australia (from slushpilemag.com)

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Now Ninalee gets up from the table. She starts to put some snacks in a bag for Janny and Benjie, and some storybooks in there too, to read to them in the park: books about trains, mostly, and there’s one with a bus and one with a car...

Eskimo Days

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We cook over the fireplace on these days, blacken marshmallows on straightened hangers, like Eskimos, dogs around a campfire.

Cast list for a play

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Felix, vigorous vendor of Viagra and part-time picture framer, well-fed and fond and faithless as his spouse

When again?

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will we begin again?We are a wheelFirst touchfirst kissfirst heatThey fade, disappear, come back again.Spokes in our wheel.When again shall we begin again?I hold you and feel myself spincaught in the whirlwind of thrill -the world, saturated with your scent.We hold each…

The Silver T to the West Side Highway

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They watched the seven o'clock news.

We Are Waiting For The Wolves

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You say we will go together to the park and dig a shallow grave and atone for everything we ever did by breathing soil deep into our lungs, and the wolves will leave.

Ballspenden

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Even if you're doing it together, there's no unity when everyone's dancing to their own tune.

After Prometheus

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His method is simple...

A Day in Dusk.

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And a delicacy in the right regrets.

I Don't Want to Go to the Bronx

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"... each of them stuck in one finger to sample the goods. Just then Katie felt a breeze on her bare legs. Her skirt literally moving."

Shakedown Street

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The combined smells of ocean breeze, grilled cheese sandwiches, incense and sweat and burning herb that wafted over from Shakedown, along with windblown notes from tinny car speakers all rolled into a potent sensory cocktail he hadn’t tasted in far too l

Sarah the Witch

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Secretly she suspected she was really a witch. She didn't have green skin or scraggly black hair, and certainly no flying monkeys. Maybe those came over time, the more bad things you did, the more ugly you became until all the world could see how horrible

Mommy Dearest

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His daddy died in his sleep. Went to bed one might and never got up.

Still

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Later

The Perfect Note

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Everything needs context, otherwise reality would be nothing more than stardust with a spark.

A Band of Feline Brothers

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I am not covetous for catnip, Nor care where I sleep at night. It irks me not who takes my Favorite chair, or swats me off a table.

My Dad was a ditch digger

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men sitting on stoops women earning the rent by working as servants in the rich folks yard

A Good Sized Puddle Suits the Fish Between My Ears

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Tell me everything about yourself, if I could care, I can pretend, let me pretend.

Caster Knox

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Caster had always imagined the Consensus as a big room, as big as the world, filled with white space and people with quantum wings, flitting about, creating information. There were tinted bubbles for people to share for privacy, and the lights never went

The Cake Forest

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They look like amateur beavers, all twenty-seven of them on their knees, gnawing through frosting bark. My wife is taking notes on a huge purple flower, listening to the kids as they shout out what tree corresponds to what flavor.

Reckonings

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Even in the fading light, it looked big enough to disembowel a man.

Venison

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It is hunting season in Jersey today. They say “There are too many deer in Jersey today.”

The Catcher and the Caught

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Like the swift night-black blue of a cormorant as it suddenly dips into a rush of white cold water,eyeing its possible food, we too sweepdown on what we think we see, rising wet sometimes with the reward,or hapless, dripping, we try again.

Shorty

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“They’re not gonna shoot him?” Rick cried.

Malaise

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Endurance wears the soul thin.// The hour to succumb ticks ever closer.

Ode to Flannery O'Connor

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Gert sat in the car and wiped at the inside of the window while the defroster blasted at full strength. The shards and slivers of ice that networked across the windshield were just thick enough to hinder visibility. Bane wrenched the door open and shoved

DNA

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my family's Scottish heritage

No Alternative

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Perfect

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a perfect afternoon

Becoming

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Ego bereft of consistency Betrays a heart hungering to toll. Unable to trust its will Or harbor imaginary gods, It gains a hold melding into a role whose proven viability Can give convincing cover To buy time to fabricate An identity that feels unique, Yet…