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Cover
Table of Contents
Editor's Notes
Donations
Submission Guidelines
Website

Stories & Essays
A Day In the Life
_
By Sida Li
Eight Minutes
_ By Michael Gettings
Jesusland
_ By Max Gordon
One September Morning
_ By Brian G. Ross
Patrimony
_ By Len Joy
Reading Between the Lines
_ By Michael Gettings
Scarring Truth
_ By M.W. Hamel
Snapshots of the Ordinary
_ By Monica Lee
Spirals
_ By Robert Connal
Stars
_ By Daliso Chaponda
The Jury
_ By Jeremy Tavares
The Thief
_ By Marva Dasef
The Train to Pennsylvania
_ By C.L. Atkins

Poetry
735 Miles to Nootka Island
_ By Nicholas D. Klacsanzky
Al Fresco Cafe Poems #125
_ By Duane Locke
Al Fresco Cafe Poems #127
_ By Duane Locke
Barnstormer
_ By Lynn Strongin
Gilded Candy
_ By Mina Blue
Marriage 2
_ By Christine Redman-Waldeyer
Memo to Italy
_ By Andrew Francis
Rain, Your Words, and the Agony...
_ By Betina Evancha
Sarcasm
_ By Juliette Capra
Textbook
_ By Christine Redman-Waldeyer
The Unspoken Eloquence of the Sword
_ By Anne Nialcom
Three Shades of Grey
_ By Monica Lee
We Pay
_ By Betina Evancha
White Dread
_ By David Snyder
Writing
_ By Betina Evancha

Art & Photography
Keira Anderson
_ Photography
Anne-Julie Aubry
_ Paintings
Whitney Clegg
_ Photography and Drawings
Eman Reharno Jeman
_ Photography, Graffiti, and Drawings
Mike Pomery
_ Paintings
Jennifer Robbins-Mullin
_ Photography
Madia Krisnadi Widodo
_ Photography
Penny Wilson
_ Mixed Media and Digital Art

Eight Minutes
By Michael Gettings


The cosmos is a timeless entity.

Earth is not.

7:21 AM, Pacific. Los Angeles, California.
The warning bell rang, and Gideon grabbed his book bag from the table. He was eager to get to class, not just because it was Science, but also because if he got another tardy it would mean Saturday detention. Saturday detention was not something Gideon wanted, and he quickened his pace. True, he did not have plans on this coming Saturday (or any Saturday, for that matter), but he preferred to spend the day idling in his own home rather than toiling in the desolate cafeteria.

8:21 AM, Mountain. Johnson City, Colorado
Eugene slid the note over to the teller, who quickly unfolded it. “All the money from the drawers, don’t sound any alarms, I have men outside waiting, and I have a gun.” Eugene smiled as a look of shock spread over the now panicked teller. She reached under the counter, grabbed a bag and slid a finger over the silent alarm.

9:21 AM, Central. Dallas, Texas.
Her eyes opened and slowly adjusted to the light. She rolled over to an empty bed, but this was expected. No one-night stand; her husband John always had work early. Amanda slowly clamored out of bed and ambled to the kitchen. She opened the fridge, picked up the milk, and took a swig from the carton. The “sell by” date was rapidly approaching on the carton. She smiled and took another swig before placing it carefully back in the fridge and closing the door.

10:21 AM, Eastern. Bangor, Maine.
“Call it,” Doctor Velasquez said, out of breath.

“Time of death, 10:21,” Doctor Anderson said, glancing at the clock.

The nurse removed her glove and rolled the sheet over the body. It was a short trip to the morgue, but she knew that this wouldn’t fare well for Anderson.

“This is the tenth one this week, Anderson.”

“I know...

“You’re going to be up in front of the medical review board tomorrow.”

“I know, Velasquez.”

Both men paused. Anderson took off his bloody gloves, tossing them into the refuse container that sat in the corner.

“Good luck, Anderson.”

“Thanks.”

7:22 AM, Pacific. Los Angeles, California.
Gideon sat down in the front row, his face red from the brisk walk from the commons to the classroom. He opened his book bag, removed his binder, and opened it to the Astrology divider, looking for his homework. The general chatter around him was distracting, but he had no urge to partake in it. Various others who had no interest in science, no reason to be in the room, discussing matters of little importance... Gideon had better things to do with his time.

8:22 AM, Mountain. Johnson City, Colorado.
Eugene smiled as the teller began stuffing money into the bag. The teller’s face was tinged pink with fear. There was really no one outside to back Eugene up. He thought it was a particularly brilliant idea, just to make sure the teller didn’t hit the alarm. “I’m going to be rich today,” he thought. The teller dropped a stack of bills to the floor, her hands shaking with nerves.

9:22 AM, Central. Dallas, Texas.
Amanda walked to the cabinets, grabbing a mug and filling it with Freezer Brand Coffee Substitute. She sighed to herself. It was going to be a long day, closing on three houses, making deposits, picking up groceries and preparing dinner for John before he got home. She just hoped he would be here for dinner. Some nights, he had to work late. It was putting a strain on the relationship, but she was willing to work on it. She hoped he was, too.

10:22 AM, Eastern. Bangor, Maine.
Doctor Anderson hastily exited the ER before collapsing on a bench just outside the viewing area for students. His face contorted as bitter tears of defeat streamed down his cheeks. He ran his hands through his hair slowly, contemplatively, but could come up with no comforting thought today.

7:23 AM, Pacific. Los Angeles, California.
“Found it,” Gideon sighed, relieved. The other students began to settle into their seats, aware of the imminent bell. Gideon procured a pencil from his binder and began to draw on the other side of his sheet, smiling to himself. The homework had taken him under thirty minutes the night before. The class was so simple; he couldn’t understand how so many people were doing so poorly.

8:23 AM, Mountain. Johnson City, Colorado.
The other customers in the bank were regretting the decision to come early today as the situation became more apparent. The teller handed Eugene the first bag and began to fill the second, this one, more slowly than the other, aware that the police would arrive soon. Eugene was none the wiser.

9:23 AM, Central. Dallas, Texas.
Amanda carefully set the coffee mug down beside the computer monitor and pressed the power button. The screen turned on, and she reached down for the on/off button on the tower. She laughed when she realized that it was in fact, already on. John was so used to using an Apple, with the power button on the monitor. It was a fault of his, leaving the computer on lately. He’d adjust, though.

10:23 AM, Eastern. Bangor, Maine.
The med students were filing out of the observation room, passing Anderson without a word. His head was buried in his hands in shame, unable to face his students after losing another patient. As the last of the students passed, Anderson began to think. Ideas rushed into his mind at an alarming rate, and his tears stopped. He settled on the last idea, deciding that it would be the best course of action.

(Turn the page)