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ELSEWHERE

Twilight

ELSEWHERE
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July 22, 2024

Gert Suburban

July 22, 2024/ Marcel Krueger

By Laura Lloyd

Everywhere I go, whenever I see an estate or area of red brick housing, I’ll forever associate it with deprivation of some kind. A harsh sentiment perhaps yet there is always a fondness in its familiarity.

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July 22, 2024/ Marcel Krueger/ Comment
Prose
July 17, 2024

The Twilight Shift

July 17, 2024/ Marcel Krueger

By Lisa Blower

So perhaps there is something about the sky right now. In this time that is no longer day but not quite the night - this in-between-ness of two separate times that have too much definition.

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July 17, 2024/ Marcel Krueger/ 1 Comment
Prose
July 17, 2024

The Hour of the Magpies

July 17, 2024/ Marcel Krueger

By Roslyn Weaver

Sunrise. It is the time of the magpies, their self-appointed duty to wake us, black-masked and ominous, with skeletal rattles as they laugh the day into being.

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July 17, 2024/ Marcel Krueger/ Comment
Prose
July 17, 2024

Defiance in Half-light

July 17, 2024/ Marcel Krueger

By Taylor Hood

Thus, before the curtain of night falls or the sky fully brightens, twilight reveals a world that exists independent of our will, yet we’re still privy to its beauty, blessed even.

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July 17, 2024/ Marcel Krueger/ 1 Comment
Prose
July 17, 2024

Rannerdale at Dawn

July 17, 2024/ Marcel Krueger

By Adam Milne

It is before dawn, blue hour. Thousands upon thousands of bluebells carpet the slopes and valley floor. Thickets of golden yellow gorse sit amongst the sea of blue, and their sweet scent of coconut rides the morning's gentle breeze.

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July 17, 2024/ Marcel Krueger/ Comment
Prose
July 16, 2024

Summer Dusk

July 16, 2024/ Marcel Krueger

By Fiona Jones

Summer dusk, and later than intended. I walk fast, pursuing the gentle endorphin thrill of physical exercise, enjoying the loneliness of late evening, hoping to attain my chosen distance before full darkness descends. 

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July 16, 2024/ Marcel Krueger/ Comment
Prose
July 16, 2024

Bugs

July 16, 2024/ Marcel Krueger

By Abhishek Udaykumar

Litha cried when the gardener trimmed the mango tree. She sat in the kitchen with her ginger drink staring vacantly through the back window. It had been a month since the bushfire and hrubs had begun to sprout, growing urgently in the fragmented manner that life had assumed since the start of summer.

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July 16, 2024/ Marcel Krueger/ Comment
Prose
July 16, 2024

Attention

July 16, 2024/ Marcel Krueger

By Becca Grady

Wind and water have whittled hoodoos and buttes over time, drawing and sculpting with sandstone, mudstone, volcanic ash, and shale. This geological strata is on display for miles. Somewhere along these highways between Wyoming and Montana the stories I tell myself begin to shift: I start paying attention.

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July 16, 2024/ Marcel Krueger/ Comment
Prose
July 15, 2024

Withington…revisited

July 15, 2024/ Marcel Krueger

By Andrew Edgeworth

The divide still stands, the border remains intact between Withington and Didsbury. But the margins have shifted. It is now a hinterland of socio-economic divide, a chasm of circumstance.

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July 15, 2024/ Marcel Krueger/ Comment
Prose

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