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	<title>ragazine.cc &#187; Fiction</title>
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	<description>September-October 2010  --  The On-Line Magazine of Art, Information &#38; Entertainment  --  Volume 6, Number 5</description>
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		<title>Mira Martin Parker/Fiction</title>
		<link>http://ragazine.cc/2010/08/mira-martin-parker/</link>
		<comments>http://ragazine.cc/2010/08/mira-martin-parker/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 21 Aug 2010 02:35:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>metadada</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mira martin parker]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ragazine.cc/?p=3308</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Roses Wali watched skeptically as Rasool crouched on the floor unfolding the carpet. “I’m not buying right now,” he said. “The store is way too full.” He lifted his arms and gestured around him. The floors were entirely covered with stacks of rugs, the walls were draped with ancient Chinese and Afghan pieces, and every [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Jessie Carty/Fiction</title>
		<link>http://ragazine.cc/2010/08/jessie-carter/</link>
		<comments>http://ragazine.cc/2010/08/jessie-carter/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 21 Aug 2010 02:00:44 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>metadada</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[hello shoes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[iran]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[jessie carter]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tehran]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ragazine.cc/?p=3306</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Hello Shoes   I’m in a stiff white dress. I’m attached, as only children can be, to my grandmother’s side. While the photo could have been taken anywhere, I know that it was taken at a party in Iran. It’s a Polaroid. If you look close you can see I’m not wearing appropriate shoes. The [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Kris Saknussemm</title>
		<link>http://ragazine.cc/2010/06/kris-saknussemm/</link>
		<comments>http://ragazine.cc/2010/06/kris-saknussemm/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 20 Jun 2010 14:00:26 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>metadada</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[kris saknussemm]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[random house]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ragazine.cc/?p=2585</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Camouflage Discipline Someone must manage the debris in vacant lots beside bus depots and railroad tracks, he thought, because there always appeared to be the same number of bottle shards, shreds of paper, rusted cans and absolutely miscellaneous things. Across the street was a bench and he went over and sat down — and was [...]]]></description>
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		<title>David Cody</title>
		<link>http://ragazine.cc/2010/06/david-cody/</link>
		<comments>http://ragazine.cc/2010/06/david-cody/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 20 Jun 2010 12:00:12 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>metadada</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[binghamton]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Civic Association Shootings]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[David Cody]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[immigration]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ragazine.cc/?p=2713</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[April Third On the network news that night, the town where the shootings took place, which is the town where you live, is characterized as sleepy, bucolic, a company town where people look out for one another. The immigrant community –  the shooter was Vietnamese – is described as small, though it doesn’t seem small to [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Ivelisse Rodriguez</title>
		<link>http://ragazine.cc/2010/04/ivelisse-rodriguez/</link>
		<comments>http://ragazine.cc/2010/04/ivelisse-rodriguez/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 21 Apr 2010 05:00:31 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>chaupt</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Ivelisse Rodriguez]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Puerto Rico]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ragazine.cc/?p=2349</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The Light in the Sky               We board a boat, one I don’t think I would step into in the U.S., but I am on vacation and like all the other tourists crowded on a creaky dock in La Parguera, I trust.  La Parguera is a small tourist town on the southern coast of [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Jill Okpalugo-Nwajiaku</title>
		<link>http://ragazine.cc/2010/04/jill-okpalugo-nwajiaku/</link>
		<comments>http://ragazine.cc/2010/04/jill-okpalugo-nwajiaku/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 21 Apr 2010 05:00:08 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>metadada</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[africa]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[african literature]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Jill Okpalugo-Nwajiaku]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ragazine.cc/?p=2048</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Run, Yesterday is a Ghost!      Arinze said that Yesterday must be forgotten for it is a ghost appearing with dimness and melting with luminosity. That idea stood close to my heart until he called on the phone and said he was in Abuja, nestled against his clean bed-sheet on the ninth floor of [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Cinema Music</title>
		<link>http://ragazine.cc/2010/04/cinema-music/</link>
		<comments>http://ragazine.cc/2010/04/cinema-music/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 02 Apr 2010 22:59:08 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mikef</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[cinema music]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[imaginary friend]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[jeff katz]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Music]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ragazine.cc/?p=2093</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[By Jeff Katz   My Imaginary Friend Has a CD   I never had an imaginary friend, but if I did he’d be a bit younger than me, the little brother I never had. He’d definitely share my taste in music – Elvis and The Beatles, The Beach Boys and Paul Weller. He’d also dig [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Daniel Rousseau</title>
		<link>http://ragazine.cc/2010/02/daniel-rousseau/</link>
		<comments>http://ragazine.cc/2010/02/daniel-rousseau/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 20 Feb 2010 05:00:30 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>metadada</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[daniel rousseau]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[valerie brown]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ragazine.cc/?p=1291</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The Hunted              1959. The night was blacker than cats-a-fightin’ as Tommy Ringer and I rolled along the deserted back roads of Citrus County in the old Model-A Ford pickup truck we had converted to a swamp buggy. We were headed for trouble and didn’t know it.           Gone were the Model-A’s original 21” [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Deborah Di Bari</title>
		<link>http://ragazine.cc/2010/02/deb-dibari/</link>
		<comments>http://ragazine.cc/2010/02/deb-dibari/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 20 Feb 2010 05:00:07 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>metadada</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Deb DiBari]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ragazine.cc/?p=1286</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Seasonable Desires    White Cotton Shirt She picks a peasant shirt from the rack and looks for her size. There are 2 smalls, 3 larges, and 1 medium. Her fingertips pass over black paisley embroidered borders. The hanger dangles over her arm like a compass pointing southeast in the direction of its country of origin. [...]]]></description>
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		<item>
		<title>Alex Straaik</title>
		<link>http://ragazine.cc/2009/12/alex-straaik/</link>
		<comments>http://ragazine.cc/2009/12/alex-straaik/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 20 Dec 2009 05:00:16 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>mikef</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Alex Straaik]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Brooklyn]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ragazine.cc/?p=825</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Where You Are Now        You are leaning over me, holding a noisemaker, clutching my arm. Your eyes are shadowed by a false drunkenness, convincingly posed behind the green glass of an O’Doul’s bottle, the label carefully removed. Your purple dress, speckled with sunflowers, rests across your legs. You are the most important object [...]]]></description>
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