Featured Fiction

Gill sat in his rolling leather chair and leaned against his sturdy desk late in the night; perhaps early in the morning would be a more accurate assertion. The sun had long since ebbed beneath the horizon, and Gill’s
People curled along the side of Florida State Prison like an amoeba. Children plucked dandelions and crabgrass from the brush, singing, “Fryday! Fryday!” until the elders of the group told them to sit down and shut up. Young women

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