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The Sunset Tree

September 25th, 2008 | No Comments | Posted in Fiction

by Eric Bolton

 

It was during the summer in which I was 17 when I became the invisible boy around my house. It wasn’t so much that I had a bad home life. In fact, comparably speaking, I was raised pretty well. It wasn’t like something out of “Leave it to Beaver” where we’d all gather around the dinner table, eat a roast, and talk about our days. My parents were fairly hands-off. They never reminded me to do my homework, but at the same time, they never hit me for not doing it. Really, my childhood could’ve been a lot worse. Read more »

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Disturbed

September 25th, 2008 | No Comments | Posted in Fiction

by S. Kean Cattaneo

 

The battered gray mailbox at the end of our cull de sac used to read  “400″ in red letters before some neighborhood kid (who wasn’t me) stole the four and probably hung it in his bedroom next to a Red Sox poster.  The red zeros they left behind looked like two eyes.  During the summer, when waves of heat made the asphalt blurry, they almost blinked at you if you squinted real hard. Read more »

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Groups With Guitars

September 25th, 2008 | No Comments | Posted in Fiction

by Didi Stewart

 

Clive Duffy cleared away the empty glasses and mopped the bar. It was almost closing time. Soon he’d be popping down to Lime Street and meeting the lads for a pint or two. They’d have a game of darts, a few laughs. Then it’d be home to Milly for the usual kippers-on-toast, slippers-before-the-telly Sunday night. Read more »

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