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Losing My Muse

Easels stood, watchful sentinels on the market sidewalk, defined by the surrealistic paintings pinned to their spindly bones. The artist sat motionless, her interest on the cigarette in her fingers. The smoke rolled skyward, no breeze to disrupt the moment. She could have easily been a self-portrait. I turned to walk away. Her voice rang […]
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On John Doherty

Peter Ostroushko is a gifted musician best known for his mandolin and fiddle playing and as the musical director for A Prairie Home Companion. We sat down with Peter recently and had a wide-ranging discussion about music, dancing, and culture. In this third of four installments Peter talks about his interest in the music of Irish fiddler John Doherty. […]
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The Bridge

Liana’s bare feet were flat against the wood floor and she was leaning over so that the upper part of her body, her arms, hands, and the side of her face were pressed down flat on top of the piano. She could feel every vibration through her fingertips and torso and faint throbs against her […]
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The Good Neighbors

I should have known. I barely had to sweep the floors the entire time we lived in Boston. For two years, the wind blew our planked balcony clean. The plaster-walled apartment was remarkably dust-free. Spiders stayed outdoors. Sometimes it seemed that even the dishes washed themselves. At the time I thought Jim conscientious. Now I […]
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Hood Superheroes

A neighborless neighborhood in a ghetto metropolis He astral projects in to the hood to disable all the hostile, combustible elements: catch them off the rebound before they detonated a school, debuted in the nick of time to catch stray bullets out of thin air, and then beam them to the cosmos
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On Playing for Dances

Peter Ostroushko is a gifted musician best known for his mandolin and fiddle playing and as the musical director for A Prairie Home Companion. We sat down with Peter recently and had a wide-ranging discussion about music, dancing, and culture. In this second of four installments Peter shared with us some of his experiences playing for dances and how […]
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Worn Heels at Tequila Sunrise

“You can’t come,” my sister said. I was fifteen, she, nineteen, but in the hallway darkness, she looked far older. Perhaps the night had bewitched her and replaced her with someone else, maybe our dead mother. They shared far more qualities than I cared to admit sometimes: the same dazed gaze, the same golden  hair, […]
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