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An Invisible Death

In Long Short Story by Lisa Voorhees

At ten o’clock on a Sunday morning in late January, the clock on the mantel chimes. I glance up from my record-keeping to stare out the paned window at the falling rain. The skies are a leaden gray, the tops of the trees swaying in the wind.
Nasty weather to be out in.
Grateful for a crackling fire in the hearth and my wool vest, I dip a pen in the inkwell and continue crafting a detailed summary of my last patient’s condition.

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The Fairy Statue

In Issue 60 by Lisa Voorhees

The face of the fairy statue that sits in the middle of my overgrown garden is covered with moss. Her exquisite features appear altered.
The fairy used to be joyful, her stone eyes etched full of delight, tilted up at the corners. They reflected the smile of her pretty, carved mouth. Now her eyes are downcast, that mouth pulled into a frown.
She’s been laid to waste by the ravages of time, incessant dampness, and years of neglect.

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