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No Kind of Wing Shot

By Jim Anderson

Sam found the shotgun under the stairs. His 12-gauge Remington pump, a classic with its clean lines and walnut stock. His father had preferred semi-automatics. His father was no kind of wing shot, but he could work a duck call. He trained Black Labs, too, and was a good man to have with you on a hunt. Sam opened a box of shells, and eased one out, pinching …

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If the gods be merciful

The good people of Kal were fixing to burn another witch. The event would close the Festival of the Tyrant’s Demise. “Third one this week,” Proffer said as we watched the wood-stack grow. “They must like the smell. The evil--” “Judge not, lest you be judged,” I said hastily. And in a lower voice: …

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What Else You Can’t Do

  He had no music in him, never had. In fourth grade, before the Christmas pageant, a desperate teacher ordered him to lip-sync "The Little Drummer Boy." Decades later, a grown man, it still made him sad. "You can't dance," a woman told him over the booming bass at a grad school party. "It makes me …

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You Need to Rework Your Story

 "What happened to your ear?" "I was maimed by love." "What?" "I blame Janis Joplin." "What?" "Let's get another round." "Sure." "You buy? I'm short." …

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Details

The professor wore the required shirt and shoes. He expected service. Yes, his pants were missing. So were his underpants, his socks and his wife of 38 years, if anyone cared for details. The girl behind the counter gaped at him, her mouth a perfect O. The professor set down a bottle. "It's all in …

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Fragment of a memoir

"The thing is," Papa said, "everybody gets that story wrong. They always think the baby died." "Well, sure," I said. "What else?" Papa shook his head. "The baby didn't die. The mother doesn't want the shoes." He finished his gin martini and motioned to the barkeep for another. The fan turned …

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Until you walk it

  Jerry limped to the top of the hill, then stopped. The two-lane blacktop wound down the hill and disappeared into the trees. Beyond the trees, out of sight, lay the river.   Jerry had driven this road many times, hundreds of times, but never walked it. You don't know a road until you walk …

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About me

As you have probably figured out, my name is Jim and I am a writer. For many years, I was a college writing teacher, too -- among many other life roles. I have another, more popular blog called Life After Carbs. It's about losing weight on a reduced carbohydrate diet. And it's about me -- my favorite …

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El Morro

The Desire to Leave a Mark ... El Morro (the headland) stands in western New Mexico, and is also known as Inscription Rock. At the base of El Morro is a pool of water that for centuries attracted parched travelers to the spot, many of whom carved dates, names, and messages (including petroglyphs) into the …

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