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Moth Light

By Julie Hensley Fiction

But it unfolded itself, and, like a long-held secret, its wings swelled wide enough to span her palm. Then she saw the color it had been keeping close: hind wings emblazoned with what shone like blue eyes, rimmed with gold and mounted on a concentric field of black.

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Hagiography

By Joan Houlihan Poetry

At three, I saw the shade of living light. / At eight, I was enclosed as an oblate. / The universe is an egg, I said, / and the nuns promoted me.

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The Heart of the Grandstand

By Rose Whitmore Fiction

The racetrack, famously built before we knew of such things, straddled a fault line at the joint of two very active plates. As a result, fissures spread through the walls of the old grandstand like capillaries. The world was tearing it apart naturally.

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Proof

By Bruce Bond Poetry

Why pray for the dead if not for this,
for God’s speed on their journey, home,
beneath the burden of the proof they bear.

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