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

Stories & Essays
'57 Chevy
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By Gary Moshimer
A Visit to India From America...
_ By Shubha Venugopal
Calista Flockhart and the MySpace Hoax
_ By Michael Frissore
Recollections and Revelations
_ By Elizabeth Harbaugh
Springtime Visits
_ By Phyllis Link
Stupendous Stew
_ By Malerie Yolen-Cohen
The Genius
_ By Ray Templeton
The Stranger Below
_ By Sam Vargo
Truant
_ By Louise Norlie
Vacation
_ By Dan Devine
Vegetarian Rage
_ By John A. Ward
What Might Pass Between Them
_ By Alexandra Leake

Poetry
A Glutton For Truth
_ By Richard Fein
A Question of Proper Form
_ By Richard Fein
Boiler Man
_ By Leland Jamieson
Horizons
_ By Davide Trame
Lioness In Miniature
_ By Grace M. Murray
Outdone
_ By Pete Lee
Real Life Elocution
_ By Richard Fein
Rewriting An Ending
_ By Rumit Pancholi
September
_ By Tim Shell
Seven Ways of Looking at a Full Moon
_ By Naiya Wright
Shalom
_ By Jeanne Hugoe-Matthews
Sideways
_ By Kristine Ong Muslim
Spirit
_ By Patrick Frank
The Empty Spaces After You
_ By Rumit Pancholi
Thesaurus
_ By Ed Higgins
Uncle Zebulon
_ By J.R. Salling

Art & Photography
Dora Calo
Robert Carter
Noah Erkes
Andrew Patsalou
Saulius
Filip Wierzbicki

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Springtime Visits
By Phyllis Link


It was springtime. Yes, I remember. I had misplaced that memory for just a second but it was definitely a spring day - much like today, in fact.

My goodness, has it really been six years now since you first presented me with that perfect solitary rose, its petals soft and bright and freshly watered by your tears? Those petals have long since dried and crumbled, yet it seems like a moment ago.

You are a sweet, dear man standing before me now with a glorious bundle of irises, my very favorite of all blooms. I envy their stems being held by your large, firm hands. I remember so well having those long fingers splayed against the small of my back holding me closely to you, sweeping me across the dance floor. For such a large-bodied man you move so smoothly. It is with true mastery that you quicken and slow with the flow of the music. Yes, you are a gentle, gentle man but most assuredly aggressive in all matters in which a woman craves such action.

Your heart is so perfectly matched to the great size of your body. I think it is what brings grace to your movements. That time I heard the leaden step of your walk I feared I was the cause. I knew I was the cause. Your lively gait is back now and its sound lifts my spirit. It is your wife that gifted you with that, no doubt. Yes, I know about her as she does me. Loving two women has troubled you, hasn't it? Don't fret, my dear. You will see, there is plenty of room to love everyone.

She knows that you visit me, even that you bring me flowers. She would never ask for nor expect less from you, though. It is a part of the man she adores. The man we adore.

I have received your kisses, plentiful enough. Now, go, my love, and enjoy yourself and your wife. Do not worry about me nor hasten to be with me. Eternity spreads before my feet, leaving me time enough to wait for your next visit.

Thank you for the flowers. They look so warm against the cold stone.

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PHYLLIS LINK lives, loves and learns in Western Pennsylvania. Her dreams transcend the stars, but sometime the sparkling light blinds her. Writing helps to transport her past those stars.

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