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The Thorn and the Heart: Anxiety, Irony, and Faith

By Jonathan McGregor Essay

Ø IT WAS ONE OF THOSE OVERCAST October mornings in College Station that look like they ought to be much colder than they are. I walked back to my south-side dorm from the Zachry Center in shirtsleeves, sweating, a zippy mock-turtleneck sweater over my arm. Zachry was an engineering building at the far northeast corner…

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The Anxiety Offices

By Lisa Russ Spaar Poetry

1. Vespers I wake from my insomnia into this vanishing, gaze & its lust, the world blue too. I do not grieve, but am infected by your absence, amber canto corseted by black ash. When I remember to pray, it is an old conversation: compromise, silence— opalescence conscripted by these closing silks, starlings with their…

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The Spif

By Mary Burns Short Story

SINCE ACCIDENTALLY BEING LOCKED inside Carmody’s Used Books, I’ve slept badly. In the mornings I manage a bright if groggy farewell as my husband gives his suit pockets a preflight pat and the kids shrug into school backpacks. Alone, I pour myself more coffee and read—the newspaper, catalogues, reviews in the alternative weekly, passages of…

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A Viewing Party

By Shannon Skelton Short Story

IN THE CAR ON THE WAY to the Grosses’ my wife says, “I’m just hoping we can get to know some of these people. Like really get to know them.” I nod and she goes on, “And I don’t mean like they are projects, like we are just trying to save them.” I agree with her.…

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