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  The Battle of the Unwanted Anklet Inspired by the true and harrowing tale of a centipede that breached the walls of our home, skittered across Amy’s ankle like a cursed gothic bracelet, and vanished into legend. For 3 terrifying evenings, the beast roamed free- a many-legged horror with no respect for personal boundaries or living room zoning laws. At last, I spotted it making a desperate charge toward the back of the house, where surely it intended to establish a kingdom of shadows beneath the furniture. Armed not with a battle axe, flaming sword, or barbarian war-cry, but with a tiny handheld vacuum, I engaged the creature in single combat. The battle was brief, the suction decisive, and the monster was later released unharmed into the wild, where it may now trouble the ankles of other woodland beings. (This image represents the event as it felt emotionally, rather than as it occurred historically.)

Inherited Faith (Part I)

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I sometimes wonder if my skepticism didn’t begin with religion at all, but with something much smaller- something almost harmless. I must have been five when I first realized that adults tell lies. Not malicious ones, not the kind meant to harm, but small, playful distortions of reality. My grandmother- “Nana,” in proper Southern fashion- was particularly fond of them. Once, while watching lizards outside, I noticed the strange way their throats stretched out in quick movements. Curious, I asked what that flap of skin was for. Without hesitation, she told me, “That’s their wallet. It’s where they keep their coins.” I tried to picture it- tiny lizard coins, perhaps stamped with the faces of important lizards. But before my imagination could run too far, I saw the smile creeping across her face. I laughed. It was a lie, but it was a funny one. Still, I filed something away without realizing it: adults were willing to bend reality, even when asked sincere questions. Not long after, I bega...
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  "The Haunted Wave"
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  "Mr. Chuckles, Public Relations Manager"
 I had such a strange dream last night. I was in the room where in real life I grew up during the 80's, wondering what I would have actually been doing in 1991, as if I knew I was visiting from the future. I thought probably watching that small black and white TV I'm seeing that was sort of lopsided, hanging off of a dresser. As I was trying to remember what would be on the VHF/UHF airwaves in 1991, the phone rings and it's my Aunt Anne, who in real life lives in California. She said she loved the granola recipes I apparently shared somewhere (in 1991 maybe it was on a BBS?) , but she urgently wanted to put my mother on the phone because she had something to tell me. (In real life she died on Easter of 2024 after a long battle with thyroid cancer.) I said "of course!", and my mom greets me. I asked how she was doing, and she said, "Well, at least the solar system hasn't blown up yet." I'm thinking "YET?!", and I'm suddenly pulled a...
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"The Watcher and the Sea"