We danced, beads of sweat racing down our backs. We moved our bodies in awkward formations, swinging our hands in the air, our hips rotating in small c…
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For weeks, she’d taken long drives and trolled the radio waves for messages from the Mother Ship. MR CHIPS AND THE MANGO-TANGO MOTHER SHIP BY ALICE HAT…
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CHEZ MOI BY HANNAH HORNSEY 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 56 Chez moi/ Roughly translated as “my place” although the crossover from Francophone phonemes t…
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My dad was in the movie. Thirty years younger and dressed in old-time detective garb, he was one of the FBI agents speaking urgently about the alien th…
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A waitress at 29 with her songs hidden under her mattress, dreams forgotten as she rubbed her feet each morning at three after work, feeling life leavi…
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There was a place called the End Zone in a strip mall a few towns over, next to a Walmart, a Home Depot, a Chinese buffet, and a discount party supply …
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Clock out, count your tips. You have a coffee can full of rubber-banded ones in your closet, the bank thinks you’re a stripper. YOUR FEELINGS DON’T MAT…
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PORTRAIT BY PASQUALE TROZZOLO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 77 Already it’s been a day. 10am and I could Murder a gin and tonic. She started on me real e…
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STEPPING OUT BY GLENN MOSS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 77 In this Winter and Spring of our collective infection and disconnect Windows and faces covere…
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DANDELIONS, MARIGOLDS, & MY DEAD-FATHER POEM BY KRISTINA MORICONI 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 79 KRISTINA MORICONI I am a poet, essayist, and visual ar…
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She gazed out at the distant mountains and the flat, endless wheat fields. This had been home once, but now it belonged to the past. BEQUEST BY LINDA G…
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Nothing could stop her now, not even the amused commotion that followed her as she left the classroom. There was a freshness to the start of something …
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