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October 2013

The Blood Donor’s Flash of Fiction

In the cigar smoke of an autumn day as pecans dropped to the ground, he drove his SUV to a cream-colored building at the outskirts of a university where students and others in need of fifty dollars toward a bag of groceries lined up for a number.

Hands and Feet

Whenever we took the subway to Orchard Beach,
my father held my hand until the last stop
at Pelham Bay Park where we waited for the bus
to drop us off behind the bath house.