| AUTUMN
ON ADELAIDE |
| Written by Mark Gagne |
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Beyond the reach of
candlelight, however, remained only the shadow and mystery of darkness,
from which, in the midst of haunting darkness, emerged the long pale fingers
of my host; his frail hand dragging heavily across the surface of the table
until the wrist was exposed by the light and his hand moved no more. |
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| A DAY IN WINTER |
| Written by Mark Gagne |
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I stepped out onto the veranda
and took the fresh morning air into my lungs. Closing my eyes tight, I smiled
with a deep satisfaction as they crisp air filled my chest and then slowly
escaped again. Opening my eyes once more, I gazed out at the beautiful scene
before me, and found a peace I had long forgotton. |
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| ELVEN
FATE |
| Written by Alex Nelson |
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Slowly but surely
the golden sphere that is the sun settled below the treetops. With it fell
the cloak of blue sky, which concealed the brilliant stars of the universe.
Drawing my cloak over the elegant suit that was my fathers, I mounted Caprcos
(my black elven stallion) and rode through the moon lit night towards King
Thalid's castle. |
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| FALLEN
ANGEL |
| Written by Alex Nelson |
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I was downtown when
I turned the corner down the sidewalk of what was, at the time, a vacant
downtown street. The sky began to sob drenching salt-less tears. Through
the darkness I witnessed the tragic event unfold. Her image was nothing
more than a blurred mesh of flesh and fabric until it abruptly halted as
it hit the earth. |
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| JACK LEARNS THE HARD WAY |
| Written by Moe Curtin |
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Leaning back in his
executive chair, Jack glowered at the clock staring at him from over the
doorframe. His focus settled on the second hand, quickly scratching away
the seconds of his life, and then wandered to the plant drooping in the
corner of his office. He mottled down, leaned heavily on the plastic stick
buried in the flowerpot, and struggled to stay upright. |
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| MAKING
IMMUNITY |
| Written by Mark Gagne |
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Dr. Larson reached
for his now half empty glass of gin and raised it slightly off the table.
His eyes were fixed upon his drink as if he had discovered some curious
imperfection within the glass. Tilting the glass slightly, Larson studied
it without saying another word to his collegue. A moment later he brought
the glass to his mouth and quietly emptied the remainder of it's contents. |
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| SAUL'S
JOURNAL |
| Written by Mark Gagne |
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I have been sitting
in my dark prison for days. Brooding mostly. Brooding about this and that
– things that would never seem quite as important to others as they seem
to me. Ethereal things, spiritual things; deep, sullen, incredible things.
I have been pondering the very irony of the universe, and finding a quiet
joy in knowing that the joke is not on me. |
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| THE EIGHTH
DAY |
| Written by Mark Gagne |
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A voice broke suddenly
over the airwaves, and then fizzled out. Adam reached for the dial and tried
in vain to isolate the station, but nothing remained audible long enough
to satisfy him. Again, he abandoned this futile pursuit. A set of headlights
illuminated the darkness outside for a moment and then were gone. It would
be difficult, thought Alan, to find peace in the midst of such misery. |
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| THE FALLEN ANGEL'S
MONOLOGUE |
| Written by Mark Gagne |
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I am an angel.
An angel, but not a child of Heaven. A winged beast birthed from the
divine breath of what you call God; the seed of a timeless force that
knows not a beginning nor and end, and that knows no conception of obedience
to the natural universe.
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| VIETNAM
NOTES |
| Written by Robert Flynn |
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Villagers walked on
the dikes between rice paddies so green that emeralds look pale in comparison.
They talked and laughed among themselves and I found myself wanting to join
them. What a wonderful place to be, and a beautiful day to be alive. Then
I got up, lifting my rifle, turned around and headed back to the war. |
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