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Yes, till November 30, 2022
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'Everyone Carries' by JOSINA GUESS

I am six going on seven when my family drives across the country in our brown Volkswagen Vanagon. For a few weeks, home is the van that I share with my father, my mother, my older brother and sister, and our dog. We go as far north as South Dakota, as far west as Wyoming, as far south as Alabama, and then we come back home again to Washington, DC. We camp or stay with friends and family along the way. One stop is with my parents’ high school friends in Oklahoma. They live in a house they built into the side of a hill. The wife and daughters all wear long hair and long dresses, unless they are riding their horses—then they wear culottes. They homeschool. They are a different kind of Christian than we are.
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'Like a Shipwreck' by ERICA BERRY

In the spring of 1940, a man with a coif like a scalloped shell ordered 350 glass ampoules from a local pharmacist. He was making models of a project he had started 20 years before, 50 cc air de Paris. First you empty the serum from the tear-shaped capsule, then you seal it with a blowtorch, locking the air inside. Paris on the brink of war. Paris, caged. Marcel Duchamp was making miniature replicas of his work for a project that would become La Boîte-en-valise, “the box in the suitcase.” He had been compiling miniature reproductions of his paintings and photographs since 1933, and now he was moving into the third dimension.
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'The Devil's Greatest Trick' by VINCE GRANATA

I don’t hear the word inmate at the Whiting Forensic Institute. I don’t hear prisoner. The men and women who fill the facility, a maximum-security division of the Connecticut Valley Hospital, are clients. Clients, like paying customers—the customer is always right. One of these clients is my little brother, Tim. When I visit Tim, rules allow for “a brief handshake, kiss, or hug at the beginning and end of your visit.” When we hug I feel the weight of Tim’s hands on my back. I can smell his shirt, a cotton shroud mildewed with dried sweat. He wears sweatpants with the drawcord cut out because the string is long enough to wrap around a man’s neck.
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