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Happiness in a car blasting Frank Sinatra, going through the car wash.
FLY ME TO THE MOON BY KARINA RODRIGUEZ 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 44
Breaking into a sudden dancelike sprint down the hallway. Newsstand. Ticket booths. The Clock. The fake stars of Grand Central on the ceiling. The phone is lost. My mother is finally dead, she cried, flinging out her arms and looking up to the ceiling.
DANUVIUS APPLICATION BY JHON SÁNCHEZ 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 44
That little girl I brought in is delusional, or worse. She’s lost, won’t give me her name or address. She thinks that her father is the Civil War statue over on the green. Well, that counts as a major delusion all right. At least somebody noticed the memorial.
RUMORS OF WAR BY PETER STINE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 44
She would catch herself walking through the piazza and feel the inexorable passing of time stop.
LEORE WORRIED ABOUT TIME BY FLAVIA BRUNETTI 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 44
the heavens do not care whether the rain falls for it just falls
THE HEAVENS DO NOT CARE BY JOANNA JEANINE SCHMIDT 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 44
The weekend had been going well until Hassan disappeared while swimming.
THE IRANIAN SWIMMER BY ADRIAN COLE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 44
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34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 44 PAGE SIX KEVIN GANNAWAY DANUVIUS APPLICATION JHON SÁNCHEZ LEORE WORRIED ABOUT TIME FLAVIA BRUNETTI FLY ME TO THE MOON KARINA RODRIGUEZ THE HEAVENS DO NOT CARE JOANNA JEANINE SCHMIDT RUMORS OF WAR PETER STINE SALUTE! CLARK HOLTZMAN DAO AND BROKEN CLOCKS JEREMY TRUSSA THE IRANIAN SWIMMER ADRIAN COLE

He reared his head from the water, gasping for air and wiping the salt from his eyes. Then, after a few seconds he rolled onto his back and lay face up, staring at a few pale clouds above him, breathing heavily. When he lifted his head he attempted to focus on the shore and he realized that he had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he had forgotten to take frequent bearings. He could see the shoreline, although he was making very poor progress towards it, and try as he might he could see no blue boathouse door. He could barely make out any houses whatsoever, in fact, and as he bobbed in the slight swell which was coming from the mouth of the estuary he experienced a growing sense of panic. It seemed to him that he had gone up-river—perhaps quite far up-river—and then he realized that he was in the middle of a fast-moving tide which was washing him away from Alicia’s house.

 

 

 THE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE BY MARTIN CHIPPERFIELD 34THPARALLEL@GMAIL.COM