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In Search of Magic
By Jamie Etheridge I’m writing late into the afternoon when I see them. A fluffle of eastern cottontails scampering across the road. They move like raindrops on water. Plop. Bound. Leap. A wiffle of unreality. Midway, the mother rabbits pause. They rear up on hind legs. Freeze frame, except for twitching noses and ears alert.…
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Exodus
fiction by Jamie Etheridge The marks are high up on the inside of her left arm where no one is likely to see them. I see them. Pink striations. They are jagged and furrow across pale, tender skin. She sits in detention with Julia or Kim or both of the North boys, neither of whom…