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    1st Quarter - 2004

    FICTION
     

    • One Step Behind by Emily Bowles
      •  
        Looking back now I understand the difference between being at fault and just being there, but itís hard for a little girl wearing jelly shoes and under-roos to understand how her Mama works.
    • Lillian's Nightingales by Edward C. Lynskey
      •  
        Out on the macadam road, a car had turned into Lillianís rutty lane and was approaching.  Peering out, she watched the Postmasterís Ford swerve over the tiger lilies and park by the paling fence.  When he knocked, she barked at him not to let in the horseflies.
    • The Way Dogs Die by Ashley Rice
      •  
        Our family has never been much good at talking to each other. Like many families these days, we communicate mostly through our dogs.
    • The Secret Place by Laura Stamps
      •  
        I donít know why I became an artist, except it is the only thing I do well.  Painting is the one talent I own that satisfies every dark pavilion of my creative being, and there is much to be said for walking the world clutching this kind of happiness.
    • Doorknobs by John Vanderslice
      •  
        He backed up one more step, his arm extended toward the door.  It was night outside, February, the stars as clear as pewter doorknobs through the window above my sink.  Even in that moment, in that conversation, I wanted to flip off the light switch so I could see them better.  At least something would be clear: radiating, pouring down, speaking out loud.
    POETRY
     
    • Nasdaq by Christopher Barnes
      •  
        Databases squeeze the brokers

        into horseshoes of screens,

        silicone brains computing.

         
         
    ESSAYS
     
    • The House on Patterson by Dennis Sheldon
      •  
        The levee road was a broad pathway of white oyster shells reminiscent of the Yellow Brick Road to Oz, though in spring the poppies that grow here are pink not orange.  We'd missed the spring on the levee, when the grass was tall, the poppies in bloom and when the soft wet air smelled of wild onions. 
         
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