Category: Fiction

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Debut

Gurney Norman Prize for Fiction: 3rd Place

There was an inscription near the front. Perfect cursive, a date from a long time ago. “To Opal. I’m sorry I’m so repulsive. Love, Archie.” Not all of them had inscriptions but they all had the name, “Opal Atwood” on the back cover in thick permanent marker. Opal seemed like she had been scared someone would steal them. Tonight, she was probably turning in her grave.

Fiction by Raisa Tolchinsky


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Cursed

She fixed her attention on that twitching dime-sized bit of skin, and shut everything else out. A large volcano she had not even known was active was right now erupting north of Manila, sending harshly blinding ash-fall over the capital.

Fiction by Noelle Q. de Jesus


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Painting

It was the divine. He knew none of it made sense. Really, he hated it. But here and now, it was fucking gorgeous. 

Fiction by Benjamin Blay

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Assisted Living

I couldn’t help believing my mom was dragging me down. I felt like a bad person, thinking a thing like that, but I’d spent the last year bringing her clean underwear in psych wards and convalescent hospitals. She was still young, everyone said. And physically fine. But she wanted to die. It had become my job to convince her not to die, which was exhausting, and didn’t leave me time to make money.

Fiction by Jon Lindsey

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Elysian Fields

I wake in morning light on my back-porch cot, glad to figure I’ve found my way back in the night, thanking Providence and Zeus and whoever else. In the night I must’ve dreamed about Helen, the older sister of Parke Wright and the only woman I’ve ever truly loved. I’ve got her song on my brain.

Fiction by Tad Bartlett

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The Best Light Fades

At Mom’s Place I wore a nametag that said Angel and waited on a group of teenagers. They poured ketchup, mustard, mayo, and watery Coke, into a glass and dared one another to drink it. A couple of guys from the Navy Yard showed up for midnight milkshakes, my landlord among them. He was happy to see me but it was clear he’d forgotten my name. Earth Angel, he sang. How’s your boyfriend, the clown?

Fiction by Rachel Lyon

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