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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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Starlight
By Richard MacAleese


The ebon void of midnight's grace a dismal scene doth know;
Beneath its dreary starlit gaze, a world is set aglow.
This world the realms of men doth know; they call its seas their own,
Its widowed peaks their kingdomed keeps, its valleys their seeds sewn.
And from these valleys, peaks, and seas, their warriors build their pride.
Their weapons clash on brilliant steel an endless fathom wide.
The sparks unleash a burning lust. The children watch with glee,
And all the fathers' smiles faint suggest their sons will be
The masters not of steel or swing but something better, more.
They dream of men who slay their foes by way of arcane lore:
A sweeping of a quiet hand, a burning ball of light,
A missile conjured through the wind, an enemy to smite,
And so it lands upon the foe, his flesh torn loose and flensed.
The dream then ends abruptly with the shouting of a friend.
The enemy has breached the walls; the sparks outside ignite
A bastion born of scorching flame, the city burning bright.
The battle passes 'neath the stars; the children see the day
And many others after that to bear their great dismay.
Their loss has taught them many things: disgust, despair, disdain;
It taught them how to use their minds to learn to wield the flame.
The stars of each of future's nights in deep remorse gazed down
As those who once were innocent arose to claim the crown,
And with each passing of the throne, the fate of men became
A doom far worse than that before: the king had lost his name,
The steels of sword and shield were swapped with magics then banal,
And all the smiles of the past were sold for gold or gall.
Nor ever were they kind enough to give the night her peace,
Nor ever were they wise enough to their own souls release.
And so they likewise pay their debts, the debtors and the stars:
One for putting forth the night, the others for their scars.

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RICHARD MACALEESE is a student of the Ohio State University. At an early age he acquired avid interests in religion, philosophy, mythology, legend, and writing, which together have produced a wide variety of abstract fictions. These interests have since produced over a hundred such writings--the fruits and foils of a compulsive habit.

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