Category: Non-Fiction

Publishing poetry, fiction, non-fiction, & visual art from creative minds around the world.
A comprehensive literary magazine that publishes writers and artists of all ages.

SHAPED BY ERIN MURPHY

our life a time-shaped miracle —Brenda Hillman I should have paid attention in geometry instead of staring at the yellow patch in Mrs. Reid’s snowy hair, wondering if a rodent had peed on her while she was sleeping. ~ I barely...

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A LIFE IN FRAGMENTS BY MARK BERGER

The Visit “What would you think if we invited mom here for a visit?” Emma asks. “How would she get here?” I say. “I’d ask my sister, Lily to fly up with her.” “How long would she stay?” “Maybe two weeks. Then I’d fly back to...

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HUBRIS BY LINDA JONES

I woke at three am. Maybe it was the spectacular snoring of the three Israeli men in our tiny dorm room or maybe the damn church bell beside the hostel. The air was hot and still, my nylon sleeping bag twisted around me. My...

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TRASHY BY SUE WILLIAM SILVERMAN

In bare feet, my soles slightly sticking to the dirty hardwood floor, I walk into the kitchen and eye the steel garbage can. With dread. My husband, with no advance warning, left me two days ago, on July 4th, and tomorrow is...

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THREE DAYS BY ERNESTINE WHITMAN

“And so, in honor of the breakthroughs you’ve made, and your breakaways from gangs and addictions, I’ve brought something.” I reached into the tote bag and pulled out a one-inch, 5 x 7 wooden board. “I need someone to—” “Hey,...

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PHYSICS SHOP BY DR. JOAN OGDEN

Usually people associate machine shops with noise and bright lights, with clanking machines run by craftsmen in coveralls, googles and steel toed shoes. The thing that I remember best about the physics shop at the University of...

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WAPAKONETA BY DEAN Z. DOUTHAT

The West-central Ohio county of Auglaize is bisected by the Auglaize River. That’s the name French explorers gave it. Its Indian name is “River of Fallen Timbers”. In the days when the Miami Nation ruled this area, it was dense...

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EYE-TO-EYE WITH A GIRAFFE BY RON THEEL

I always looked forward to the state fair. Not so much for the food (so I tell myself) or for the entertainment, but for the chance to feed baby carrots to the three young giraffes in the petting zoo. I liked feeding the shorter...

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