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Dreams in Burnished Silver

By Christine Hanolsy in Issue #462 of Beneath Ceaseless Skies Online Magazine When the evening bell rang, we filed past each other once more, and this time I kept my chin lifted. You found me right away, pressed a tiny metal disc into my hand as we passed: a minuscule mirror that, under the light of the moon, captured my image in parts; a freckl...

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Hungry Like The

There’s a wolf where my brother used to be, a beast absolutely hellbent on ruining my life. He plunges his broad snoot into the Wednesday night spaghetti, and neither Mom nor Dad cares when half the bite slides off his nose and onto the table, to later be jostled to the floor by his grabbing, grubby paws. But if I came to the table without washi...

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