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Submitted to Contest #323
On the third of May in the year 1979, Gayle Elaine Sanford realized Monkey hadn’t come home for breakfast. It was the first time in twenty years he’d been late. The old cat was an orange tabby, a fat one with four white paws and a stumpy tail he’d lost as a kitten. It’d been caught in a patch of barbed wire that some old man had left along her fence when she’d first bought the trailer at the end of Wayshire Road. She’d been busy cleaning out the trash the previous owner left behind and heard a yowl so sharp she’d thought a banshee’d just be...
Submitted to Contest #85
Amado lived in Tranquilo, New Mexico. His mother worked two jobs—one as a teaching assistant, the other as a clerk at 7-11. His father worked as a civil engineer in the city on the horizon, the one in which Tranquilo was the smallest of seven unincorporated districts. Their house was situated along the desert highway, a singular stretch of broken-up asphalt that ran from the Indian town in the east to the city in the west. There was a pothole on the westbound side shaped like a dead coyote. Amado could see it from his living room window by s...
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