“Is that Dorothy?” Elaine asked as we turned up the driveway. An old woman stood next to the mailbox. Her white legs with blue veins protruded out from a trench […]
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The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged
“Is that Dorothy?” Elaine asked as we turned up the driveway. An old woman stood next to the mailbox. Her white legs with blue veins protruded out from a trench […]
Read moreYou wake up on the fourth floor to the garbled coo of some window-shopping pigeons, dress quickly, pick at breakfast, clamber down the dark stairwell with ears closed. Today, no […]
Read moreSure, no one ever said that people were getting their powers from the rain. Tommy guessed it had something to do with all those big companies that owned the factories […]
Read moreThe summer after my first year of college the KKK had a presence on Main Street in my hometown for a few hours. Don’t know what they wanted—just walking up […]
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