Author: Bo Bryan
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Barrel of Grunts
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We started playing poker in the eighth grade. All things to do with vice and the cravings of adulthood were scattered in the school yard verbally, in a carnival town,…
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Stealing With Both Eyes
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We started playing poker in the private chambers of a legendary woman, Fatima Franklin. Fatima was a former belly dancer from Baghdad, Iraq, imported and naturalized by marriage to an…
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The Forever Beach
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Myrtle Beach was always magical, a carnival town, now billboard cluttered, strip-mall-crowded, neon-glowing, the so called “Redneck Riviera”. My hometown. People say, “Boy, you must have seen some changes in…
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First Things First
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First thing to do was take a deep breath. It was always colder and windier, the air cleaner to breathe over the ocean. Cold at that hour. Before dawn, the…
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The Door’s Unlocked
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On the way to play poker, I made promises to myself. Not to do this or that stupidly in the game, let myself be bluffed out. I always vowed: if…
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Fever To Be Cool
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The size of the world changed in high school, grew smaller, though a larger world might have been suggested by logic; if logic had influenced beach boys. All of my…
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Mystery Girl
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Where did girls go when school let out? What did they do? I didn’t have the slightest idea. Which is really odd, as much time as I spent thinking about…
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The Glow of the Past
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I love the sounds of words, probably the first reason I became a writer. Later I added the hope of causing folks to laugh and cry reading stories that…
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New-Years-Resolution-Rhyme
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I will run faster to catch up with myself. I will not run away from me. I promise. But I might not remember in a month or two…