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    DeForest Kelley Up Close and Personal: A Harvest of Memories from the Fan Who Knew Him Best (Book Excerpt) by Kristine Smith

    From the Chapter: STAR TREK CEREMONIES — 1991 Sue had asked her club members to send De cards and notes of congratulations for his upcoming star ceremony on the Walk of Fame scheduled for December 18 that year, so she could send them to him and Carolyn as part of their anniversary package. Carolyn called to tell me how choked up De was by the sentiments expressed therein, from all the fans who had responded to Sue’s request. The card that I had sent De read: “Great men may be among us…but none compare to you.” I had taped a few small photos of De, De and me, and De…

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    Flavor of Roses by Jayne Marek

    I meant to choose chocolate, but it was a slow night At a Middle Eastern restaurant in Paris, and the owner Chatted with me while his children played near the back wall Or approached with amber eyes at table height to watch This strange American off the beaten path, eating Rice and goat meat, flat bread. The night was mild for winter, And I suppose windows shone high over this tiny alley Where the restaurant squeezed between walls. There may Have been rain. Dessert arrived before I could say “chocolate” And I didn’t notice, talk flowed, then the owner beamed As I tasted the soft green custard. It scented my…

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    Fireworks by Christina Hendricksen

    If there are sparks you know it’s meant to be. Fuel and an oxidizer bind together like summer lovers. Get yourself someplace cozy and prepare for blast off. Indulge in that breathless moment between lighting the fuse and the explosion, that moment when your stomach lurches and you wonder if you truly can pull this off. Get all caught up in the bang and the bloom of pyrotechnic stars, because this is life, because the moon is no bigger than a fly’s eye, because tonight the legs of spiders– red, blue, white– travel across the sky.     *Christina Hendricksen writes poetry, fiction, and drama. Her play Soft Pink Roses…

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    Assemblage by Alicia Johnson

    As the last screws were tightened, the final circuitry installed, I found awareness – awareness of my purpose and of my individuality. My brethren lay beside me, forty total in a row, while the arms of our forebears polished our alloy panels and attached our limbs. Great vibrations whispered, pulsated down our wiring, brought our extremities fully to life in a rush of electrons. We simultaneously lifted our torsos, stretched out our fingers, exercised our joints, tested the functionality of our processors. Visions flooded our mainframes: the Great Star peeking over the horizon, its light penetrating the dust of the surface, illuminating the deep caverns of this moon we inhabit.…