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

Stories & Essays
Copy Machine Repair Guy
_
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
Quinceańera
_ 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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Old Biddy
By Claire Nixon


Across the notice board, the words in bold letters said, “Delayed,” and a grumble of complaints echoed throughout the airport.

Mrs. Marvin shook her head; she looked at her watch and sighed. With her back arched she dragged her large suitcase across the floor and tapped a young man, wearing a uniform, on his shoulder. “Excuse me.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied curtly, turning around to face her.

“Why is my plane late? I’ve been waiting for hours.” Her glasses slid down her thin nose.

“Which one is that?”

“The only one that is cancelled.” Her wrinkly finger pointed up to the notice board. She sucked her lips in over her gums.

“I’m not certain, Ma’am.” He looked over at the board shrugging his shoulders.

“You do work here?” She looked him up and down.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He nodded his head several times.

“Then why don’t you know?”

“That’s not part of my job description.”

“And why not?”

“Err...” He looked at the elderly woman, confused.

“This is ridiculous. I have a routine you know, if I don’t stick to my routine it’ll upset my digestive system. Then I’ll be ill. I may vomit too. Would you like that?”

“No Ma’am. I’m sorry, I can’t help you, but I could take you to someone who could.”

“Why didn’t you say so in the first place? I don’t have time for this,” she said rolling her eyes.

“I’m sorry Ma’am. This way.” He pointed towards a corridor. “Let me take that for you, it looks heavy.”

“Yes, it is. Be careful with it, it’s George’s best suitcase.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” As he bent over and held onto the straps, he wrinkled his nose from the foul stench coming from the suitcase. They zigzagged through the crowd up the corridor.

Mrs. Marvin followed him slowly; every now and then, she paused to catch her breath.

“This weighs a ton, I don’t know how you’ve managed to drag it this far.”

“What’s your name?” Mrs. Marvin asked.

“Michael, Ma’am,” he replied.

“Well, Michael, to be exact you could say around ten, no, twelve stone, then on top of that maybe a few pounds.”

Michael looked down at the suitcase anxiously, then they continued walking up the corridor.

“It’s hot here.” She wafted her hand over her face. “Why’s it got to be so hot in here? There’s no air conditioning.”

“The airport has top of the range air-conditioning.”

“Well it’s not working. You’ll have to report that to whoever. It’s not right making us ill with this heat.”

They approached three doors in a row. “Just in here, take a seat,” he said, opening the first door.

Mrs. Marvin poked her glasses back up her nose. “Why have you brought me to a small room? I bet the air-conditioning isn’t working in there either.”

“I thought it would be easier if I brought someone to you, rather than have you walk to the other side.”

“Are you saying I’m not capable of walking?” she snapped with one hand on her hip.

“No.” His face turned a shade of red.

“You better not. I may look old, but I still have it in me. I’ve managed to pull that suitcase without any problems and you, you complained about it being heavy, not me.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I’m sorry. If you’d prefer, I don’t mind showing you the way.”

“No, I’m going to stay here and wait, you’ve put me in a huff now.” She stamped her feet as she walked into the room.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” He followed her in and dragged the smelly suitcase in.

(Turn the page)