Author: limestone-admin
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Dilapidated Cage
by Victoria Kezra Victoria Kezra lives in the Bay Area in California. She writes, takes photographs, and enjoys doing crafts in the sunshine.
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Up From the Depth
by Irakli Mirzashvili Irakli Mirzashvili grew up in a family of visual artists in Tbilisi, country of Georgia, and enjoys working in oil pastels, creating collages, and photography. His artwork has been exhibited in the United States and Georgia. His art has been published in The Adroit Journal, Camas Magazine, Ignatian Literary Magazine, New Delta…
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The List of Gruesome Places
by Mark Brazaitis As a journalist, my father had covered fires and floods. He’d covered bloody protests and a war in the Middle East. When, in February of 1991, he visited me in Guatemala, where I was working as a Peace Corps volunteer, he asked if we could visit the capital’s infamous basurero. He didn’t…
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What Comes Up
by Angela Townsend Everyone is excited about the norovirus. Some people think it starts with negative thinking, or else it wouldn’t be called the “neuro virus.” Some people attribute their immunity to apple cider vinegar, misanthropy, or the Holy Ghost. Some people assume you have the stomach for an unabridged reading of their personal norovirus…
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Bitter to Ripe
By DM Anderson I was twelve years old the first time I uttered the words son of a bitch. Naturally, I had no idea what those words meant. I was merely a child. I only knew the expression came with a sinister adult-sized connotation. That same year was also when I decided to move my…
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Nora’s Christmas
By Lina Marino Nora can’t escape the holiday: Christmas-themed sitcoms on TV, festive music in the stores, some idiots even decorate their cars with felt antlers, bells jangling on bumpers, the drivers themselves festooned in fuzzy red hats and ridiculous reindeer noses. Her short ride to the mailbox torments her, every house on the cul-de-sac…
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Toot Sweet
By Daniel Webre From the get-go, Jacques seemed an unlikely suitor. I’m sure whoever arranged these trysts was well-versed in reading pedigree papers and such. Surely, they wouldn’t have sent an over-the-hill poodle to do this stud-work. But Jacques looked old. His white fur had started to yellow, though everyone insisted he was peach. I…
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Home in the Hurricane
By Sarah Spaulding Avento I open my body to you. Half-eaten Jack – o -lantern a smile tilts through the cracks. The fans buzz and you say it’s too early to think of fall. Just this morning a tropical storm. Houseplants weeping. The skin of our house lashed. My car stopped in the middle of…