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Barbara A. Barnett
This windowless theater makes it impossible to keep track of the days, but I am certain that years have passed s...
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Philibert pressed his snout against the glass. The Bénédict's windows were angled out so that one could watch th...
Yesterday Maestro Fuhrmann took the Beethoven so fast I was gasping for breath; today I'm wondering if I'll make...
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Anna concentrated on the cold, on the freezing water around her feet and the bruising sensation in her toes. So ...
On the Day of Sacrifice, my sister Asthore and I wait at the blood bog's edge, our feet sinking into the mudd...
In the town of Svalgearyen, on the thirty-third day of the months-long winter night, Grandma Marit abruptly cast...