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It’s just like a photo, we think.

THE FLATNESS OF HYPER-REALISM BY ALLISON RICHARDS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 110

We viewers cannot paint perfect figures, so we don’t make art. We don’t have the time, so we don’t make art. We watch a video on TikTok and the end result looks more real than our goddamn reflection in the mirror, and so we don’t make art. 

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There goes another week of my life.

LOVE STORY BY LESLIE BOHEM 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 110

Every week I’d take the trash out and look at that week’s TV Guide

Do you remember the TV Guide?

it listed everything that would be on television that week 

I’d look at the one I was throwing out and think—

there goes another week of my life.

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Enter Michelle Branch in the music video of Everywhere.

ON MICHELLE BRANCH BY ERIC FARWELL 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 110

As the video faded out, we sat there for a few seconds. In the span of this time, John found himself comfortable enough to offer up “she’s hot, dude”. For the first time I felt understood by a friend, even if he had no idea how much this meant to me. I cooly responded “yeah” and turned my glee to a low simmer. READ ONLINE


He doesn’t know his neighbors on either side but he’s going to have to introduce himself to one of them right now.

JOHN AND PABLO MEET THEIR NEIGHBORS BY ELEANOR LERMAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 110

He’d told himself many times that he should move, that he didn’t belong in this kind of neighborhood any more.

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He asked me if I wanted to have a beer at his place and meet “the old lady”. 

DOLL DANCE BY CHARLES ARNIM 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 110

One of her eyes glimmered outward from her pale face as if powered by a minuscule, nearly-exhausted battery. The other one looked like one of those marbles kids used to play with.

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34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 110

THE FLATNESS OF HYPER-REALISM BY ALLISON RICHARDS, LOVE STORY BY LESLIE BOHEM, DOLL DANCE BY CHARLES ARNIM, JOHN AND PABLO MEET THEIR NEIGHBORS BY ELEANOR LERMAN, ON MICHELLE BRANCH BY ERIC FARWELL.

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I met the glance of a woman.

CONFESSION BY REGINE RAYEVSKY FISHER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 109

She was looking at me, most likely by accident. Possibly she didn’t even see me. I, in turn, started to examine her, and completely stopped hearing anything my wife was saying.

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You should visit

more often.

ALL THE LIVES THAT COULD HAVE BEEN BY DANILA BOTHA 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 109

When we were together I wasn’t effusive enough. He told me that I only said I loved him after we broke up.  

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Head bangin’ 

ass shakin’ balm.

PLAYLIST FOR THE WORST DAYS BY JAWNO OKHIULU 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 108

A mix of rhythm, funk, soul, and soapbox prophecy cut with love, grief, rage, and acceptance.

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Dark Angel was the song he dedicated to Susie. 

DOWN THE ROAD A PIECE BY BERNIE HAFELI 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 11

She blew him a kiss. It was like he could see it rise above the smoke and neon and glide lazily toward the stage, a rose petal in the evening breeze. Momentarily he stopped strumming, reached up and caught it.

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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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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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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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