EGGHEAD BY MANUEL IGREJAS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 45

“Thank you, Eugene,” Mrs Bryant said. “You see, children, it’s just like I said. People are predominantly good but you don’t know how stupid somebody is until they open up their mouth and tell you, like that boy done.” She pointed at me.

FACES BY FADWA AL QASEM 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 45

INTO THE DEEPEST SHADOW BY KAREN MASUDA 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 45

The phone lit up his face, the bluish-white making him into a ghostly figure in the darkness of his tiny, tiny room. Gonta was so absorbed in the words in front of him that it was like he had been abducted from the present by them, taken to the brink of shadows. “Would you rob a bank with me?”

THE ANGRY CREPES OF BELLEVILLE BY EDDIE P GOMEZ 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 45

When I mentioned to the man that his crepes looked like giant flour tortillas, the kind that my mom made back home, he came out from behind the three round hotplates in his booth and began to bang on a metal table with his spatulas, the same spatulas that he’d just used to flip and fold my crepe. “It is not zee tortilla, it is zee French crepe,” he yelled.