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I liked my truck. I liked to put all my blocks in the back and cart them from room to room. But I loved Merry’s doll.
By Andrew RamerSeptember 1990Sharing C rations, picking up where you left off, stealing forbidden knowledge
By Our ReadersAugust 1990This Mother appears in many cultures as a two-sided figure capable of both creation and destruction, of nurturing and annihilating. When we give ourselves over to the Mother we have no individuality, no consciousness.
By Valerie AndrewsJuly 1990His renewal began with the appearance of that most despised of all the midnight messengers, THE COSELL, and the anguished realization of that most dreadful day’s certain coming.
By William PenrodJune 1990At home in Montgomery, Wanda’s azaleas are in full bloom, the whole front of the house covered in a profusion of lavender, pink, and fuchsia blossoms. Up here on Cape Cod, it is April and still there is frost on the windowpanes. Wanda’s daughter-in-law tries to fool everyone into believing it’s spring with the forsythia.
By Candace PerryMay 1990Clean sheets and warm wool blankets, barn swallows, music
By Our ReadersApril 1990Sarah Jane tried to suppress the fluttery feeling that swept through her at the thought of him riding by just beyond the fence rails, looking at her with a faint hint of a smile, raising his broad-brimmed hat with a nod of his head.
By Artelle G. WeerFebruary 1990It is 1 in the morning in California, where I live now, 4 a.m. in North Carolina where Grandfather sits in the kitchen. Through the screen door, past a curtainless window, I watch him before entering.
By Kathy RileyFebruary 1990Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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