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

Stories & Essays
Copy Machine Repair Guy
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By D.E. Fredd
Corrupted Youth
_ By Kurt Kirchmeier
Dragon's Breath
_ By Lionel Cheng
Even the Damned Deserve to Love
_ By Anna Cortez
Gifts
_ By Jocelyn Johnson
House of Cards
_ By Steven J. Dines
In Doubt
_ By Stephanie Thoma
Lipstick
_ By Michelle Baron
Old Biddy
_ By Claire Nixon
Quinceañera
_ By Hester Young
The Fiddler and the Faerie
_ By Samantha Rae
When Barky Smiles
_ By S.E. Diamond

Poetry
2 A.M. Window Shopping
_ By Chris McGuffin
Alison
_ By Harriet O. Leach
Cloudy New Year's Morning
_ By Richard Fein
Not Easy
_ By Samantha Ogust
On Hearing Li-Young Lee Read His Poetry
_ By Foster Dickson
Prelude and Coda
_ By Richard Fein
Rainy Night Meditation
_ By Harriet O. Leach
Retreat
_ By Richard MacAleese
Silage Team--Machete Thirst
_ By Leland Jamieson
Starlight
_ By Richard MacAleese
Stolen Phone
_ By Jorge Jameson
The Abandoned Playground
_ By Richard MacAleese
Thought Provoking Baked Crescent
_ By Chris McGuffin

Art & Photography
Daniel Bravo
_ Paintings
Tove Hedengren
_ Photography
Peter Huettenrauch
_ Photography
E. Hunting
_ Drawings and Digital Art
Robin McQuay
_ Drawings
Iris Onica
_ Paintings
Pete Revonkorpi
_ Digital Art
Roy Wangsa
_ Photography

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Prelude and Coda
By Richard Fein


Comes the day when a life crosses its continental divide,
when one’s mind flows backward more than forward,
when memory, and not expectation, haunts the soul
or worse, regret overwhelms promise.
It's not age, but what ages you that fixes that moment.
For a youthful murderer condemned for life,
it's the clang of the cell door closing.
For the middle-aged middle manager,
it’s realizing the same cubicle until the gold watch is given.
For the spouse once in love,
it’s the twenty-five year marriage dissolving.
And for the one still in love
it’s that till-death-do-us-part vow being fulfilled.

But some lives go on, prodded by promise,
right up to the last crusade for a downtrodden cause,
or the last book read, the last essay written,
the last lesson taught or learned,
or even one last graceful dance.
Think of the past, think of a gramophone
with an old vinyl record turning between prelude and coda--
if a worn out needle is stuck in a groove
the same scratchy phrase skips over and over.
But a sharp stylus spins a smooth flowing tune,
a gathering tension of melody,
till the crescendo is reached, catharsis gained,
and the needle arm ascends...

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RICHARD FEIN has been published in many web and print journals, including Oregon East, Southern Humanities Review, Touchstone, Windsor Review, Maverick, Parnassus Literary Review, Small Pond, Kansas Quarterly, Blue Unicorn, Exquisite Corpse, and many others. He also has an interest in digital photography.

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