Issue 19: The List
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Editor-in-Chief Jemimah Halbert
Editors Dylan Dartnell Jessica Gately Kate Lomas Glendenning Shelley Timms Jessica Wilson-Smith Underground Literary Magazine is published four times a year Underground Writers would like to respectfully acknowledge this magazine was produced and edited on the traditional lands of the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin nation, and also on the traditional lands of the Wadjuk people of the Nyoongar nation. As an internationally-reaching magazine, we also pay our respects to the traditional custodians of all the lands from which the stories and poems in this issue were sourced. Views expressed by authors are not necessarily those of the publisher. Copyright is reserved, meaning no one is permitted to scan or photograph our pages and publish them anywhere else. Reproduction in whole or part is prohibited. The works in Underground often contain adult themes and language. Not recommended for readers under sixteen years Front and back covered designed and produced by Jessica Gately and all copyright to her. All internal illustrations designed and produced by Jemimah Halbert and all copyright to her.
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Contents
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Letter from the Editor
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Review: The Opposite of Loneliness, by Marina Keegan Shelley Timms
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Hour Eileen Chong
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Writing Lists Kristin Martin
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Ditchin’ the List Angela Hooks
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The Exchanger Edward Palumbo
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Cookie Ian Adams
Menu Alterations Anna Jacobson
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Recipe #89 Anna Jacobson
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Parental FAQs Through the Years Pat Tompkins
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A Poor Trade Genevieve Deeds-Page
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Every Day is The Same Meesh Feraud
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The Road to Righteousness—Winning competition entry Elizabeth Robinson-Griffith
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Album review: Mac Demarco—This Old Dog Nick Crameri
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Upcoming Opportunities for Writers
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Contributors to issue 19: The List
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Issue 20 theme reveal
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Contact
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The Exchanger Edward Palumbo
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Carl Bishop had a shaved head and the top of his dome came to a slight knob and, therefore, the name Bishop suited him well. He was a man in his forties, or so my best guess told me, and entirely cordial. But he was clearly a man who was used to having his way. His daughter, Jane, arrived with Mr. Bishop, on time, at my Shelley Street office. I had fairly expected Mrs. Bishop to round out the party, but she was home with the stomach flu. The Bishops sat at my desk after we shared pleasantries. Jane was a lovely girl o fourteen, a freshman at Lakeman High, and she was pleasant, if on the edgy side. I was fully prepared for their arrival, having spoken to Carl Bishop on the telephone the week before and having received his deposit, by mail, two days before our appointment. “Have you and Jane discussed this matter at length?” I asked Mr. Bishop. “No, Mr. Drew,” Carl Bishop replied. “I have no idea what I am doing here,” said Jane with a tremble in her voice, “I only know that my mom said I had to come.” I nodded. “Mr. Bishop,” I said softly, “this may be a good time for you to tell Jane about your concerns.” “What concerns?” Jane inquired with some panic, “does someone in the family have a terminal illness or something?” She wriggled in her chair as if ready for the worst of news. “No, Jane,” said her dad, “everyone is fine, I mean, other than your mother’s stomach problems. The thing is, well, how do I put this? Jane, you, uh, are not working out.” “Working out?” she answered. “What does that mean?” “As a daughter,” Mr. Bishop replied, “frankly, I’m disappointed.” “Well, what are you looking for?” she asked with a snap. “What is the exact issue?” “It’s hard to put my finger on, but there’s really not a lot going on with you. You haven’t any real talents to speak of and you are just, pretty, uh, mundane.” “Not every kid is exciting,” Jane countered, “some are more, you know, reserved.” “Yes,” her dad replied, “but I was just hoping for a little more spark.” Jane shook her head and I interjected a question of my own, “Do you have any interests, Jane, I mean, anything that really enthuses you?” “I played on the soccer team for a while,” she told me. “What about that? “That is something,” I replied. “And I like music,” she added. 13