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Animal Rights

Fiction

Skin-Bearing Animal

Many days Ann took the coat out of the front closet, placed it over her arm and stroked the white fur. She imagined herself standing at the North Pole surrounded by clean white snow as far as the eye could see in all directions, snow sifting from the colorful flickering sky and falling softly around her in the antiseptic cold, falling and collecting smooth and without footprint to the horizon. In the frozen wastes of her imagination, under the aurora borealis of her wounded central nervous system, she could achieve numbness.

By Isaac Rodman December 1984
Fiction

Birdseye

Winter in Dallas, Chuck and Morgan and me all tucked into an efficiency apartment with a murphy bed, smoking marijuana in a large walk-in closet that also doubles as my writing space because Shorty the landlord says if he catches you smoking pot he’ll throw you out. Shorty is king of this straight baptist red-brick apartment and square lawn in the middle of a block of black chicano low-riders and jesusfreak vans with holy fire painted in orange running off the front fenders, gunshots at night and sirens in the alley behind the supermarket, taxi driver asking on the corner have you seen that blonde hooker that’s always here, flat brown bottles on the sidewalk when I walk to work past the park in the morning, everybody asking me are you sure you should be walking to work?

By Pat Ellis Taylor August 1981
Readers Write

Animals

Blaze’s five-gaited walk, Spot’s violent death, Tiger’s Mississippi River adventure

By Our Readers January 1979
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

You Eat It

Is there a right way to eat?

Is there a wrong way to write about it?

By Sy Safransky June 1976
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Chewing It Over

Yom Kippur. The Jewish Day of Atonement. Along with my family, I used to fast, on this holy day, to expiate my sins, to assure that God would mercifully grant me yet one more year, during which, along with my family, I might sit every night before the TV, eating enough fruit and cookies to feed the whole block.

By Sy Safransky June 1974