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I had come to Yellow Springs for the Antioch Writers Workshop, an annual event on the Antioch College campus. My college writing teacher and advisor, the poet Jud Jerome, was an integral part of the workshop.
By Ruth RudnerMay 1994Women seem to trust each other best by giving over the contents of their lives to another woman, who will allow those contents just to sit there undisturbed. Women look at each other and say, Yes, I have known this too.
By Sallie CaldwellMay 1994The original Odd Couple, Vivaldi on the bus, a sheep dog named Sailor
By Our ReadersFebruary 1994The Sun tries to be different: a journal that lives at the margins of popular culture without making a religion out of it, that acknowledges our kinship with one another by what we don’t print as well as what we do.
By Sy SafranskyJanuary 1994A puddle of antifreeze, a porcelain doll, an extension cord
By Our ReadersNovember 1993“Prophet?”No one had called me that in a while. Before I turned around, before I looked for his face in the mirror behind the bar, I knew, I felt who it was.
By Donald N. S. UngerOctober 1993Jane lingers in bed beneath the veil of the mosquito net and listens to schoolchildren slosh their clothing in buckets of water near her window.
By Pamela GerhardtSeptember 1993Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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