• From the Heart by Thomas Pluck

    Wailing notes squeezed from metal strings pealed through the smoke-softened air. The stained maple body of the instrument as dark as the whiskey in my glass. The axe man clutched it to himself, bent and wracked as he reeled out a banshee’s call for a lost lover. I sat alone at my table, boot heel […]

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  • Faggot by Thomas Pluck

    In study hall Brandon sat like a little faggot so I said “Hey faggot.” “That’s right, faggot. Don’t look at me. I don’t like faggots looking at me. I don’t want their faggot eyes on me, faggot.” Bell rang and he walked like a faggot and held his books like a faggot so I knocked […]

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  • Shogun Honey by Thomas Pluck

    Ishikari took the job for three rice balls a day and a dry place to sleep. By dark, he’d wished he drowned and starved. His blade caught the thin shaft of light by the door. The edge was notched from many blows. Rain hammered the roof of the priest’s hut, beat a relentless tattoo. Droplets […]

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  • The Last Sacrament by Thomas Pluck

    Not many of my friends want to be altar boys anymore. I know what you think; the Church has done a lot of wrong, but there are still good people working to help the needy and change things from within. I became an altar server right after I was Confirmed. My mother always wanted me […]

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