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Safar: Short Fiction

Stepping into the crisp air at the airport I feel as though I have stepped into a quasi nirvana with...

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I lean against the windowsill and light a cigarette. I watch the sunlight filter in, watch the smoke meander its...

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seashells cannot hunt

‘Mama.’  Daughter is plastered to the floor like a slimy, wet fish. Her brown legs are stump-like and riddled with...

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How does spirit view the feminine power? Feminine power, expressed through human consciousness, is the embodiment of the divine essence...

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