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Editor's Note

Golden Era. This term has always intrigued me: “The Golden Era of Hollywood,” “The Golden Era of Train Travel,” “The Golden Era of Radio,” etc. The term sounds both joyous and melancholy at the same time, as if there was a magical epoch for some activity, but we missed it because we were too young, or weren’t born yet, or were so busy doing other things that we didn’t notice the era go by...

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Featured Poet

A Speech in Gratitude for the

Ways of God

“Every little nit is a gift,” I said,

lying, though in the mystery of God,

I knew it must be true. It must be true,

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Short Stories

Just a Little Bit

by Dr. J. C. G. Goelz

Joyce trembled as she bent to see what she had left in the toilet bowl. Cramps twisted through her. Pain pounded her temples. She massaged the ache in her back with her right hand and used the back of her left hand to slick the sweat off her forehead.

It was just a little bit of red blood and a small brown clot that looked like she had blown her nose after a recent nosebleed.

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The Hunter

by J.L. Smither

Almost knee deep in snow, Elizabeth peered through the trees with her rifle ready. The late afternoon sun cast long horizontal shadows that crisscrossed the tree trunks. She held her breath and waited for movement. A trail of blood stretched across the snow from her feet into the confusion of shadows ahead. She hadn’t heard the bleeding monster collapse, but she also couldn’t hear it move. So she waited.

The Bayberry

by Lisa Finch

It’s Christmas Eve. I shiver in my wool winter coat as I press the code to let myself in at the Golden Acres Nursing Home. The supper hour will be over. Already it’s dark outside.

It’s too cold to snow. If only this heaviness would lift. I take one last look at the sky: ugly, grey and impassive. I step inside the near-empty lobby.

Poetry