There is no return. 

SOAR BY KRISTEN HENDERSON 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 104

Swing, swing. Fly, fly.  That’s all she knows, so she flies. Her tie-dyed fedora floats into the rainbowed sky. There is no return. 

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Dracula didn’t end the way Bram Stoker wrote it.

DRACULA THE ETERNAL: LISA MONDE INTERVIEWS DACRE STOKER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 104

Dracula didn’t end the way Bram Stoker wrote it. Dracula got this look of peace on his face and he crumbled into dust. Was that his demise? Was that his cheeky escape, that look of peace on his face? What was it?

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I can hear the Earth turning on its axis.

THE TYGER KNOWS BY TRACY ROSS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 104

I don’t like it. I have nothing against meditation or mindfulness. But I have something against the quiet. It rubs me the wrong way, makes me think of Dylan Thomas, “Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” 

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I cannot put my foot back into that river that brought us here.

HURT BY ERROL RUBENSTEIN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 104

Moments, minutes, hours, days, months have passed and I cannot put my foot back into that river that brought us here. 

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How we organize the randomness.

RIVKAH BY RONALD TOBEY 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 104

Our legacies vanish not as footsteps in tidal sands or buried by volcanic dust or lava flows or lost in swirls of words loosed into the air but live revealed long after us in stories of how we organize the randomness. 

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