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The Ballerina in the Attic by Amanda N. Butler
In an attic forgotten,white sheets blanket sofas and seatsconcealing the upholstery’s golden embroidery – the shape of a dormant astrolabesilhouetted in shadow – in a corner forgotten,a life-sized doll sitswith dust in her eyes,a faded stare towardthe rusted boltjutting from her point shoe – protruding from her cobweb and coppershoulder blades, a clockwork…
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Above the Ginkgo Trees by Tomas Marcantonio
I moved to the Jeonpo area of Busan not long after my wife died. She was hit by a car on her way to work one morning and, as she was the main provider in our relationship and the one who paid the rent, I couldn’t afford to stay in…
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Night Wait by Fanni Sütő
The thick, starless night enveloped the lonely figure with the smell of autumn, the season of mists. He didn’t know how long he’d been waiting in the abandoned bus shelter, he wasn’t even quite sure why he was there. He felt like a forgotten, unfinished rhyme. The world was stirring…
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Foreshadowing by Juliette Sebock
We laughed as we wandered the city And I told you about other mistakes—Cheap wine, bottle caps, and a left-hand tan line—While you got lost in a world of firsts And songs by my favourite bands. We stopped by the spirits, opposite the corner store, No Strongbow in sight. You asked how I know; And…
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Creative Study: Ronald J. Pelias
Writer’s Statement: I might start here: I have a friend who called himself an artist before he ever tried to create a work of art. He felt drawn to that label, and by calling himself an artist, he found himself writing fiction to live up to his own expectations. When…
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Unchoreographed Ballet by DC deWinter
Trapped in the stickyglue of timelessness,days fly by untasted as I dance a slow adagioin the cellar of my imagination, a devout acolytewaiting for something, anything to happen. Days fly by untasted as I dance a slow adagio in the cellar.I weave in and out between boxes packed full of…
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The Last Kiss by Juliette Sebock
There’s a momentWhen you realise that your last kissWas The Last Kiss. We track firsts: First date,First kiss,First touch,First night. But when we reach the endAnd the silence stings the cuts,You start counting back to lasts: Last kiss,Last date,Last smile,Last look. The finality of it all is astounding. If you had…
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People Are Filled With Patterns by Niall Power
If you love something let it go If it comes back to youdon’t be surprised when it leaves you again People are filled with patternsA practical application inmaintaining a level of melancholy you can grow old with Take your loneliness on a walk around your kitchen For contextthis is the same kitchen you almost took your…
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When We Were Neanderthals by Raymond Luczak
When we were Neanderthals,we all fucked, clingingto each other in the coldsnap of night, not caringto know anything morethan the necessitiesof food, shelter, safety.We didn’t comprehendthe universe then:why did the skies changethe bed sheets of night and day?Why did the moon appear?Why snow? Why heat?It would take us generationsto figure…
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He, Unknown by Ana M. Fores Tamayo
Though he dwelled in lonelinessHe was anchored in eternity. A stranger among men he bore the Nether regions of the sun. He was deep in waking dreams,overwhelmed by inner voices. And so he died. ____________________________________________________________ Ana M. Fores Tamayo advocates for marginalized refugee families from Mexico and Central America. Working with asylum seekers is…