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Shorts

Green Eggs and Ham

Sam is my little boy. He has finally drifted off to sleep. This has taken some effort on my part – three readings of Doctor Seuss’s Green Eggs and Ham, that rhythmic monologue of the wilful, snake-shaped creature who assertively does not like to breakfast on green eggs and ham. I’m not complaining, though. The …

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Crow

An icy wind slithered inside Mia’s coat. The ground underneath her was smothered under six inches of snow, and the black trees towering over her were hunched like ailing crones. She tried not think about the sogginess of her boots, which her mother had brought over to America from Chengdu. Folding her arms close to …

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Jeremy Nathan Marks

Hopper

When my neighbor’s wife passed away last year he told me how he had boxes of her things he could not bring himself to open. Boxes stashed in his attic and in a corner of their basement, spots she had selected. He said he hardly knew what was in them though he had brought himself …

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Lyn Ann Byrne

For the Love of Words

All these years I’ve held on tight to the finger licked corners of stale crusty novels.  I’ve held them open between my clammy hands and felt my eyelashes flicking across their stretched jackets. I’ve peeped. I’ve peered. I’ve gawked. I’ve gazed. I’ve stopped.  How many times I’ve read my thoughts away. I’ve slid my finger …

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Home Economics

Beth stared at them from the doorway. Jessie had spotted them from inside and sent Beth out to see. Outside, the two rabbits were on their backs with only their heads and tails intact, the rest of them bitten back and hauled away. Behind her, Jessie clattered at dishes in the kitchen, talking, though Beth …

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Parallel Lines

We were stuck. Stuck in our marriage, stuck in our lives, stuck in this fucking car. ‘How could you be so stupid?’ he said. Five minutes from the main road and the next petrol station. Ten minutes from the overflowing pumps we had just driven past, and I’d run out of petrol. ‘It was too …

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White Ink- Fiction

Yet another pretentious arsehole spouting off about aesthetic theories. What is he looking for? To see how long he can shitetalk before sand falls out from between my legs? In some gaff. Four a.m. Fag ash falling all around. Burning into the carpet. Empty cans crushed. Stacked into teetering pyramids. Voices colliding. Fights starting. Techno …

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