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Fiction
Man Made
Take note, Father, for I have sinned, for relentlessly thinking of his warm body while hers lies cold. For looking beyond this day and this tree-lined cemetery and expecting nothing. For feeling just the aching cold and ill-fitting shoes. For wanting to see his face and know the truth.
May 1989Lord Shantih
A seeker once approached the Lord Shantih to ask a question. But Lord Shantih was repairing his sandal strap, which had come loose.
May 1989getting to know HIM
When Lana left I still kept on talking to Him every day.
He was never IN when I did but I was able to get a lot of information about Him from the Fiery Finger that appeared and wrote on the wall of my cell.
April 1989Willie Mays And Mr. Tic Tac Toe
Willie Mays was only thirteen years old, but already center field was his private domain. His mitt seemed to have radar installed in it, registering the trajectory and velocity of the ball. All Willie had to do was glide into place, flip out his glove, and the ball would land there, trapped in leather.
April 1989The Baby Machine
The next day was Sunday, and after church Peggy was born time after time. “Being born” meant sliding down the trough into the pillow. Magda knew that babies were born with diapers on, so that was how Peggy was dressed.
March 1989The Minotaur
The first thing that must be said is that the Minotaur was blind. Her mother — for the Minotaur, actually, was a woman — torn with guilt for her own sins, blinded the Minotaur soon after her birth.
March 1989Sugar
We’re in the check-out line and I’m putting the groceries on the counter. This is the hardest part of shopping with a two-year-old.
February 1989After The Fire
Howie got his guitar the day the Soviets invaded Czechoslovakia, and he named it Elijah. It made a big impression on him: there he was in his living room tuning this new, magic thing, watching the tanks roll into Prague on television.
February 1989The Roshis
My friend is rushing toward Jasmine. Her scream reverberates in my mind, with a quality of despair that surprises me, as if she knows something I don’t.
February 1989The Confession Of Jezrine Beauvais
Yeah, someting unusual hoppened. I had a baby. My first born. An’ I killed it. Now you say you gonna charge me wid a crime. But you see, that baby wasna good ting. It was evil. So you see, I had no choice. It was just the next ting tu do.
January 1989Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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