Cyclone Racer by Chad Greene

Before he shoots them, he commands the man and the woman to put their hands in the air. The couple complies. Playing along, they also throw wide their lids and lips – producing silent simulations of screams. Then his shutter snaps, capturing a picture of the two of them sitting in the last Cyclone Racer car. Posted online later that night, it’ll look like a…

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Scapegoat by Will Cordeiro

Todd, our hired-hand, clipped the goats’ hooves: a citified, a clean, a bit sissified boy. Left too long, they’ll prance around lame, having elf-slipper toes or tottering with high-heels like some two-bit drag queen. You’re supposed to scrub the crud and manure with a toothbrush then trim parallel with the growth rings. He took quick snips with bolt-cutters without first washing their feet. Those filthy…

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Letter to the Editor of Rolling Stone Magazine, From Rabbit Foot Baker, Bluesman (by James Potter)

Dear Sir, I am not the kind of man who likes to make a stink. But I was just down at Shelly’s Porkpie Shack in Shreveport, Louisiana talking with a few folks having a high-time when I looked up and saw in one of those spindly racks behind the counter your magazine with The 100 Greatest Artists of All Time. I recognized some of those…

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Application of Jesus Christ to the Columbia Executive MBA Program by Joshua Bernstein

Looking back on it now, I think the event that inspired me the most was my crucifixion. From an early age, I was taught to comport myself modestly; after all, I come from humble origins, despite being the son of God. And yes, it’s true I was reared in a manger, although I prefer to think of it as a temporary dwelling and part of…

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