Endlessly Repeating

Rachel Martin

Slowly and deliberately, her lips began to move. Soft words fell from her mouth and were cast out to sea by the deafening sound of the ocean’s lullaby. Her eyes steadfastly held their gaze. Her strong, tanned shoulders squared off in defiance with the immensity before her.

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Blood Flows Upstream

Lise Lacasse, J.T. Townley (translator)

Don’t just stand there in the doorway. Come in! I told Suzanne you could visit because I’d like to talk to you about something. Please, have a seat! Doesn’t it seem like ages since we sat down together, face to face? Why don’t you take your coat off and stay a while? What’s wrong? You don’t seem especially overjoyed to see me. I guess I …

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The Derailment of the Mikado

Dawn Newton

Ten minutes before the program was scheduled to begin, the Mikado rested on its side—black, sleek, and quiet. The technician stood on a stool, leaning in over the Plexiglas which enclosed the exhibit, his perch precarious. “That train was off the track the last time we came here,” Jason said. He and his mother sat in the small gray exhibition booth, waiting. Dust filled the …

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