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Vespers

By Courtney Flerlage Poetry

Praise the mockingbird,

unashamed that he is alone, praise the beetle,
the hornet, all night’s shy & vicious ornaments . . .

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Aubade

By Michael Dechane Poetry

This silence before
love pulls itself
apart, against
the current of its own
longing, is the most terrible
silence I know.

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Your Face Has Always Been Peppered with Moles

By Cortney Lamar Charleston Poetry

for Granny For as long as I’ve witnessed the affliction of light washing over your skin like this, as you stand hunched over the pink lip of the sink, scrubbing, Sunday spilling through these small windows of time, lighting up the kitchen like some pancake-flipping ghost, your face has always been peppered with moles. Pray…

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The Stand-In

By Jason Zencka Short Story

1 C AROLINE WAS PADDING, distracted and shoeless, through the weekday stillness of the empty church when she came upon Desmond’s wife standing on the other side of the back entrance. Framed by the double glass doors, Kim looked uncharacteristically small in an out-of-season winter jacket. Caroline offered up pastoral smile no. 6: Ironic Appreciation…

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Love Letters

By Lee Isaac Chung Essay

Then it enters the upstairs room, to rest beside my grandmother, a Korean War widow who sold her home and bid farewell to clan and country, arriving in Arkansas to raise two children while their parents worked, who surrendered her strength in the last days of 1988 to a second stroke, but not before teaching me how to read a love letter.

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