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I felt as if I had been given the cheat code to life.

VISION BOARD BY MEIKKO LEE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 107

You’re telling me I had the power to change my life from the vampire-sucking scam of an occupation that is public education? Sign me up.

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It was a home run, sure. But it was more than that.

THE POUTRE POND POKE BY GREG GIORGIO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 107

I’ll never forget the amazing spectacle, the ecstatic, wondrous moment of Mark Massaroni’s mighty, magical home run ball.

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But you have no soul.

THE UNBEARABLE WEARINESS OF THE MIDLIFE WOMAN BY AMANDA MARPLES 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 107

She avoided thinking, but that did not stop an inner voice that prattled on, that she could not silence. What for? Who for?

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Midnight is an uncanny time. 

SUNFLOWERS BY HARRY HAWKE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 107

My watch chirps midnight. Midnight is an uncanny time. Unless you’re all jollied up with a destination, you don’t want to be out and about.

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Don’t I live here any more?

HOMECOMING BY JOE HERRERA 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 107

Answer the fucking door bitch? Maybe she’s not at home. But she knows I’m coming. Maybe I said Sunday and not Saturday. But I’m sure I said Saturday. What if she didn’t get the email? She must have got it. She didn’t answer it. 

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ISSUE 107 BUY PRINT & DIGITAL


34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 107

VISION BOARD BY MEIKKO LEE, THE POUTRE POND POKE BY GREG GIORGIO, SUNFLOWERS BY HARRY HAWKE, HOMECOMING BY JOE HERRERA, THE UNBEARABLE WEARINESS OF THE MIDLIFE WOMAN BY AMANDA MARPLES.

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She looked over at me and smiled.

A NIGHT ON THE COPY DESK BY STEVEN McBREARTY 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 106

Jenna Bright came flouncing into the newsroom, making a splashy entrance in white short shorts and clog-style shoes, plopping down her laptop and writing materials on the copy desk next to me. She was a kind of femme fatale of the newsroom, a brunette bombshell who understood exactly what effect her presence had on the young men. She was unusually pretty, for sure, exuding raw sexuality, the kind of young woman who had been flattered and fawned over her entire life because of her looks. Standing there, her long straight hair askew after walking in from outdoors, her summery blouse slightly sweat-stained, she looked over at me and smiled.

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Your father never gave you swings.

PLAYGROUND BY LINDSAY SMITH 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 106

You’re like your father. You’ll get more and more like him as you grow older.

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I feel more at home here than anywhere else on earth.

THE TRAGEDY OF THE ROSEMARKIE SEAL BY EMILY NEVES 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 103

I turn my back to the cave wall and look out. The slope of the hill and a little green bramble with a spray of yellow flowers partially obscures one side of the opening and on the other side I see the green-gray sea reaching to the horizon. I think, I could live here if I had to. 

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Being the perfect mother isn’t all that hard.

THE PERFECT MOTHER BY KATHERINE BROWN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 102


Books for new mothers will tell you that you need a ton of stuff. You can agonize over what brand diapers, cloth versus disposable, or whether to wear your newborn in a sling or let her cry it out in the crib, but none of that matters because you will be judged for whatever choices you make anyway. All you really need is a good bottle of wine. 

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Grandma makes egg mcmuffins 

and lets us watch R-rated movies.

SINGLE MOMS HAVE COZY APARTMENTS BY SE DIAMOND 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 99


Since Jennifer’s mom is a biker and goes out a lot, Jennifer usually stays at her grandmother’s house where she can have a more stable childhood. Her grandpa stays in his downstairs bedroom with the door locked. I’ve never seen him.  Everyone smokes, so the couches smell musty and cigarettey. Both bathtubs are stained brown around the drain. But I still love sleeping there because her grandma makes egg mcmuffins and lets us watch R-rated movies. I stay in my pajamas and watch TV for eight or nine hours at a time. 

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Pick the ending you want.

DEAD CAT BY MELVIN STERNE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 96


What’s the most likely ending? What’s the worst-case scenario? What’s the best ending? There’s a billion potential endings. Pick one. 

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I made it through. 

On my own.

MACHINE GIRL BY REBECCA EGAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 96


I want a signal that screams I made it through. On my own. I found a way out. 

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The only person who’s got your back is you.

 

Salem Rose, you can’t trust any motherfucker. You can talk with people, and be cool with them, but people are ruthless and disgusting, and the only person who’s got your back is you. Nobody got you like you got yourself, Salem Rose. You have to take care of yourself and tell everyone to go fuck themselves.  “I know dad,” I would tell him, giggling because I knew he would get mad at me if I swore.

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FROM HUMBLE EYES BY SALEM ROSE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 94

Whatever happens 

happens for the good.


Bean whispered, you could place your hand in a ripe fruit and withdraw a beautiful afternoon. He said, “Whatever happens happens for the good.”

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A SCUT OF EARTH BY ELIZABETH KIRSCHNER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 93

 You wore my hat and laughed as 

 we walked home hand in hand.

LOVE AND PHILODENDRON BY PATRICK SEAMAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 83




It was a quick walk down to the little creek that ran through your father’s backyard. We would kick off our shoes and ball our socks into our pockets and feel which rocks were the slimiest and search for crayfish with our toes. I remember you wore my hat and laughed as we walked home hand in hand and I told you to keep it and you did. 

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 Everything, she thought, is 

 an accident of where you are.

STEALING HOME BY KAY BONTEMPO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 78


Two bell peppers, Muenster cheese. Cauliflower, a pack of Newports, Tampax. Martinelli’s apple juice. Paper towels two-ply. English Breakfast tea. Boil-in-a-bag rice, paper clips, ramen noodles. Maybe some ice cream if there was money left over. America’s Choice vanilla, eaten straight from the carton. It wouldn’t be bad. With an uncomfortable pop, he pulled out of her and lay beside her, breathing hard. It was 11.52pm. She wondered if the Shop’n’Save would even be open. 

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