Blog > Archive for 01/01/2014 - 02/01/2014
Archive for 01/01/2014 - 02/01/2014
- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Friday, January 31, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: John Laneri
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Dominique Episode - 2
Moments after walking into the Ritz, I spotted Dominique seated at a table with a group of people, all of whom seemed to be enjoying themselves.
From what I could see, she appeared just as beautiful as I remembered. Only this time rather than a diamond about her neck, I noticed a emerald necklace in its place. As best I could tell, it appeared to be an exquisite piece, featuring a series of stones that blended perfectly with her Parisian flair.
At the time, I was in Paris on business, staying at the same hotel where she and I had once indulged in an explosive twenty-four hour weekend.
Back then, I actually thought that I had met someone special until I later learned that she had exploited our relationship and used me to unknowingly transport a cache of diamonds through customs...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Thursday, January 30, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: John Laneri
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Dominique Episode - 1
I initially met Dominique at a party hosted by a business acquaintance. At the time, she was standing across the room conversing with a group of women, the sparkle in her eyes as brilliant as the diamond adorning her neck.
She was wearing designer pants, colorful heels and a stylish silk top, all of which made for a classy presentation. Once she looked my way, I tossed her one of my better smiles and watched her politely ignore it, so I waited.
Moments later, as I had hoped, she glanced back in my direction and acknowledged my presence with a slight tilt of her head, an indication to me that the door between us was beginning to inch open.
Soon, she again looked my way and smiled. And before I knew it, we were looking into each others eyes, our attraction immediate. For most of...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Tuesday, January 28, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Kelly Kusumoto
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“Here they come,” Keiko said. She was peeking through the curtains.
“Oh no.” June whispered, afraid that they might hear her.
“They’re parked in front of Michiko’s house.”
“What are they doing?”
“I can’t see too good,” Keiko said. “Go get my glasses would you?”
June crawled into the kitchen. The linoleum was cold and unforgiving compared to the beige, berber carpet of the living room. On her hands and knees, she could not see the surface of the table. She raised one arm and searched for Keiko’s glasses. As she scanned the table top blindly with her hand, she knocked down a glass of water and it shattered onto the floor.
“What are you doing?” Keiko asked.
June felt a piece of paper and then Keiko’s glasses on top of it. She pulled both of them down in her grip and crawled back to the living room.
“What’s...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Sunday, January 26, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Francis Harrison
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If you’ve ever taken Chicago Public Transportation, or any public transportation for that matter, you must know that there are some real characters. People with peculiar colored hair and people that are so interesting they carry conversations with themselves seem to be littered throughout public transportation systems. Now I have nothing against these people and actually enjoy their company; they add something different to life. On the El to the appoet holiday party, I should have noticed the foreshadowing that a blue and green haired elderly woman would give.
The party itself wasn’t so strange. Good friends and colleagues meeting for the first time without a computer screen as a barrier was an uplifting experience. It really made all the team that works so hard to make appoet what it is, realize...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Friday, January 24, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Donal Mahoney
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Harry Tompkins hadn't been to church for many years. He still believed in God but going to church didn't interest him. Then on a warm Saturday afternoon in August, he met Jayne, a lovely woman, at a company picnic. He liked Jayne a great deal and he thought he might improve his chances with her if he accepted her invitation to go to church on Sunday morning. Jayne had a way about her that Harry liked. Besides she looked like a woman who would bear good children.
"What time should I pick you up?" he asked her. She told him 9:30 would be fine. "That will give us plenty of time to get to the ten o'clock Mass."
The priest's sermon, it turned out, was about the importance of forgiveness and that was a topic Harry knew something about. He had not made a lot of enemies in life but the ones he had made, he...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Wednesday, January 22, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Kathryn Broussard
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Her house looked like a butterfly.
That was all she could think as she stood in front of the only home she had ever known. Bright, unnaturally blue flames licked the clouds scudding through the night sky overhead. They blackened the stone, burnt the wood paneling, singed the moon. The air was filled with an acrid scent that reminded her faintly of sour milk and campfires. And there was that other scent, that metallic scent which brought to mind visions of dark alleys and shadows, claws and red eyes. The smell of blood.
Normally one would not notice the faint tinge, what with the roaring flames and the campfire smell. But she knew the scent well. It had haunted her life since she was a toddler. It made her stomach churn and her knees tremble. It was a bad smell. It was the smell of despair.
Sparks flew...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Monday, January 20, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Elizabeth Brown
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I couldn’t resist, so we broke the rules. I seduced my wife, and they seized my family.
“We must be cursed,” I said. “It’s the end of us.” In one single moment, my life was teetering downhill, fast, faster— unhinged like a wagon let loose or a bike with no brakes.
“Why do you talk like that, Eliot? We are certainly not cursed.”
“We did it to ourselves and our future generations.” I feigned confidence. Inside I shook with trepidation, sadness—all of it wrapped into one volatile mess. My heart pumped, temples pulsated. Time was short.
“You’re not making sense, Eliot. We have each other, a beautiful baby, food, shelter.”
“We are not free, Mona. Don’t you want your freedom? What good is any of this without freedom? Department of Environmental Factions, DEF, controls us. Don’t you see that?”
She ignored...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Saturday, January 18, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Dov Lieber
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Some start with a light shining ‘round them. Deeply you know this light will dim. Then there are those who earn their light, ‘round whom one day you look upon them expecting the usual grey, and they’re enwrapped with a lovely glow. An unfathomable universe squeezed into a warm body. Whence comes this light? You’ve been a blind fool. Destiny is revealed. Here, within earned light, not of sun but soul, you find her.
Just the image of her dancing shadow, and you’re made dizzy. The outline, it’s rippling curves, the grace of her long auburn hair. You hear her voice, soft like rain. You ache with pain. You feel she will never love you in this way. How could she? You are the coal and she the fire. But you’ve always thought yourself this way: whomever you love must be better than you.
So you sit down in the circle...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Thursday, January 16, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Kristina England
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Darlene looked up at the bird house, then at the ground.
Ten very dead birds were piled at its base.
Her mouth stayed downward drawn as her husband joined her.
"Honey, he didn't know," Sam said, pulling his gardening gloves on.
"He's fifteen. How the heck didn't he know?"
"No one ever told him."
"It's common knowledge."
"Oh please. Remember that story you told me?" Sam said with a wry smile.
"What story?"
"About your attempt at making chocolate pudding at sixteen."
Darlene bit her lip.
"Remind me again what happened?"
"I used water instead of milk. But I didn't kill anything."
"Yeah, but you had instructions on the back of the box. Rice doesn't come with a label that says, 'Warning: Kills birds.'"
"Why do you have to be so... so..."
"Logical?"
"Yes."
"Well, someone has to," he said...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Tuesday, January 14, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Samantha Eaton
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It’s something you say thousands of times in the course of your life, but most of the time you don’t really mean it.
You didn’t mean it when you spilt your coffee all over the nice white table cloth at lunch. You didn’t mean it when you ran into that lady with her arms full of files. You didn’t mean it when you stepped on your friend’s foot.
However, you do mean it when you say it now. You look to your right and you look back behind you at the three sets of wide eyes that belong to your friends.
You all brace yourselves as you feel the car move on its own accord, or maybe the ice beneath was pushing the car off the road. The slim shoulder isn’t enough to stop you, your friends, and your car from tipping over the edge. Then you are in free fall, and you have never felt so trapped in all your life. Through...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Sunday, January 12, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Donal Mahoney
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Tim Ryan was the smartest kid in the room--in his classroom, that is--in 8th grade back in 1952. And that was no small feat because that classroom was full of girls who studied hard all the time. The boys were less diligent and didn't normally score as high as the girls on tests. But Tim Ryan usually scored 100% on tests. He had already won an academic scholarship to one of the finest private high schools in Chicago. His only flaw was poor handwriting.
The nuns who taught at St. Nicholas were hard on students with poor penmanship. It was invariably the boys who had this problem. And the remedy, which seldom worked, was to have those with poor handwriting sit for an hour after school and practice an approach called the Palmer Method.
But there was a much bigger problem in 1952 than poor penmanship....
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Friday, January 10, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Chris Sharp
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When U.S. Marine Sergeant Ozzie Oldfield and his ruined leg came back from Afghanistan, he thought of the wounded limb as a little stranger on the plane. The little stranger wasn’t there for good times or fine conversation or entertainment, though. In Ozzie’s younger years, his legs working together earned him years of pure pleasure in most of the running sports. But now he felt stopped from even running toward a tennis ball.
The IED came out of nowhere and turned into pain the second it got into the right leg. Three men with Ozzie had been less wounded as their reinforced Cougar armored monster was determined to stay intact no matter what. Everyone inside was lucky, just extremely fortunate young guys. Ozzie was simply happy for all of them,
After being discharged and moving back into his father’s duplex,...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Wednesday, January 8, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Nicholas Slade
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I was walking my dog when I spotted a black water moccasin lying in the grass next to my apartment. As I stared at the venomous serpent, I wondered why it was here. Not particularly why it was lying in the grass, it was sunny day after all and snakes do need their sun. No, I was thinking more along the lines of why was it here in this neighborhood, at this time, at this place. Was it here to eat the abundant lizards that I sometimes stomped past as I pretended to be a reverse Godzilla? Was it here to find a nest to make more little, living venom-bags? What was the reason? After a little thought, I came to one conclusion: it was just here to ruin my day. I knew this, as I was having a good day up to the point that I spotted that living embodiment of death. I had seen it many months before and I had prayed...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Monday, January 6, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Jeanelle Nicole Driver
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She played the foil yet again, a damsel in distress, but in reality a capable villain. Of course the poor sap sitting across from her didn’t know it yet. His minutes were numbered. His gang was the last obstacle between her and this city.
“Take it or leave it,” he said throwing a wad of crumpled bills on the table.
Her blue eyes narrowed and she made no motion to pocket the cash.
“I’m not going to play your games, Zane. You can’t buy my silence,” she said. She blew a delicate smoke ring after taking a puff from her cigarette. “You’ve played me for the fool for the last time.”
Zane reached for the money but drew his hand back before his fingers brushed the worn, damp edges.
“It’s not hush money, Babe, think of it as a retainer.”
“Oh please, you’re...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Saturday, January 4, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Matt Fleming
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All he would need to do is get back in his car and drive away. Twenty, maybe twenty-five steps and he would be able to spare himself the shame and humiliation of asking Daisy to the prom. He stood in front of the door for a long while, staring at the rusting brass knocker. He willed his hand to move, but it decided that now would be a great time to give in to fear instead of, as his dad was often fond of saying, "bellying up to the bar". He cast a quick glance behind him to the car.
It was his dad's old Ford, but in the night, with the damp southern air and being parked under one of the few working street lights around, it may as well have been 1964. It was the car his father took his mother out on their first date in. For years, it was his father's baby and his focus, even when mom would yell at him to...
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- By E.S. Wynn
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Posted Thursday, January 2, 2014
at 12:00 AM
Contributor: Rebeka Singer
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Evening rain seeped into the city ground to sleep that night. The boys wandered down alleys, jumped fences because they could, and ran through the dorm corridors for recruits. They found Sharon and Ashley in their room, readying for the night. The dresser door hung open and clothing collected in corners. They enlisted the girls to join them in their aimless revelry. “The night will be dreamless, and boundless.” They bartered promises for company.
Charlie had just taken his final exam earlier that day. It was the last day before holidays began. Then they would return home for a winter hiatus of boredom, Christmas turkeys and lousy reunions. The kind when everyone pretends that they have their life together and, over cheap cocktails parading as symbols of sophistication, smiles broadly at one another, bearing...
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