EASTERN IOWA REVIEW
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Debut Fiction


JULY 2019

SNOWFALL

CODY LOWE

He ripped through the front yard in a human cannonball explosion of alacrity, powdery white kicked up behind.  Plowed the knee-deep snow like agricultural machinery, breaking past the black tree line and threading through famished limbs whose wooden fingers reached out for fear of shivering to death.

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JUNE 2019

TO ESTABLISH CARE

ROSEY LEE
​

I hate when patients cry. It gives me less time to get things done during the appointment. Assuming she had children, I asked if she could live with one of them while she recuperated.

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APRIL 2018

EMUCKFAW

SHELLEY DAVENPORT
Elisha Massey had never wanted to go to war. He wanted to stay home, marry Bess, grow corn and teach his eventual grandsons how to whittle. None of this seemed very likely, now that he was waist deep in the frigid waters of a slippery Alabama stream, trying to keep his shot-to-pieces cousin from drowning while the Red Sticks handily slaughtered Jackson’s army in the mist.

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NOVEMBER 2017

PACK

SEAN CUNNINGHAM

You are walking home one night from somewhere I'm not sure of, when you are set upon by a pack of wild dogs. They want your watch and your phone and whatever money you have on you, and you are quick to oblige but they are not satisfied. You ask them what else they want and they tell you plain that they don't know, but they are sure as the sun is grey that they want something. You tell them the sun isn't grey, which they know, but tell you that it isn't yellow either. They say they'll walk with you and you all walk. Their leader – the alpha – says his name is Lucky, but his real name is Hammersmith Blue Last Tuesday, and that you may call him any of those names. You tell him yours and they all laugh a peculiar dog laugh. You ask if they have managed to get any good stuff tonight. The one they call Barney Zimbabwe says it has all been crap and that your crap was the worst crap of the lot. The dog laugh ruptures the night.
           
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