Category: Short Stories

Foreign

They will meet in a club like Best Westerns Level 8, somewhere the coined-up Kenyans with salaries that read like mobile phone numbers go to burn their pocket
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Long Lost

Right off the bat this article won’t have a specific direction but don’t leave me here alone in the cold with all these words. Writing is already an
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Death

The clouds are dark and ominous and the weather is unforgivingly cold. My fingers are frozen and my legs feel like two blocks of ice. I drag myself
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Disturbed

I am no longer the girl who had her life put together: the fun loving girl who used to find happiness in small things. I am no longer
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Missing Home

I sit hunched in a corner at the subway my eyes darting for signs of a good Samaritan while at the same time trying to hide from the
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