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fiction in this issue:
  

Mosquitoes by Spencer Hayes, with AudioMosquitoes
by Spencer Hayes, with Audio

The elected officials gave the township only 24-hour notice. They delineated the plan at a press conference to the small but feisty babel of reporters on the town hall beat, to the all-seeing cameras. The front-and-center spokesman addressed the crowd in an unnerved tenor, fielded questions. The suit had hair that wasn’t hair but a brown tsunami combed left to right, and he flashed his beacon smile and told them all about “aerial larviciding.” West Nile mosquitoes were breeding like winged rabbits, and their virulent blood-borne illness had started to appear along the old canal that used to shuttle mule-drawn barges between Bristol and Easton.

  

Earthquake Weather by Jen McConnellEarthquake Weather
by Jen McConnell

It wasn’t just me. October 17, 1989, was burned into the collective consciousness of Northern California in a matter of seconds. I was at the beginning of a piano lesson with Brian Wu, a third-year student of immense talent and sloppy habits, when it happened. Often I gave up correcting Brian and stared out the front window, simply listening to how he played. There was an ethereal quality in the careless way he played, as if he didn’t notice his own hands. It was this lack of care that gave his music life. He didn’t merely play the notes — I used to do that — but rather seduced meaning from the music.

  

Hernando and the Ever Widening Waste by Michael McGuireHernando and the Ever Widening Waste
by Michael McGuire

It had been Saturday, his day to ride the horse into the mountain. If there was one thing he didn’t want to hear, it was a truck grinding up out of the one ranch that remained. He’d listened ten minutes before the logs appeared. Ordered, stacked, chained, levered down. Locked. As if, having at last made the decision to quit the forest, they must get out by any means possible. ¡Viva México! Innumerable héctareas denuded in numerable years. Deforestación was something you had to live long enough to appreciate. And yet...

    

  

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