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	<title>Two Hawks Quarterly &#187; Highway</title>
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	<description>A Literary Uprising</description>
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		<title>Desolation by Patrick O&#8217;Neil</title>
		<link>http://twohawksquarterly.com/2010/02/20/desolation-by-patrick-oneil/</link>
		<comments>http://twohawksquarterly.com/2010/02/20/desolation-by-patrick-oneil/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 20 Feb 2010 08:51:39 +0000</pubDate>
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				<category><![CDATA[2010]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Creative Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Antioch University]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[AUDEMUS]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Blood Orange Review]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[California]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[fast food]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Highway]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Los Angeles]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[MFA]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Nouveau Blank]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Patrick O’Neil]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[SoMa Literary Review]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sunsets and Silencers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Taco Bell]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[The Citron Review]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[The Sylvan Echo]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tumbleweed]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Word Riot]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://twohawksquarterly.com/?p=3488</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160; &#34;Hi, welcome to Taco Bell. Hope you&#39;re having a nice day,&#34; said the girl standing behind the counter. Her monotone voice so void of emotion it could have been computerized. &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160; &#34;Define nice,&#34; I answered, and looked around at all the colored plastic and brushed aluminum and wondered why this was what fast food corporations thought a restaurant should look like. &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160; &#34;That your world is wonderful and you&#39;re happy to be alive,&#34; she said with no enthusiasm as she stared at her pale pink lacquered fingernails. Obviously this part of the conversation wasn&#39;t the official Taco Bell greeting she was required to say. &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160; &#34;Can we just forego that statement?&#34; I asked, and stared at the menu above her head. &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160; An audible sigh escaped her lips as she ran her hand back and forth over the face of the computerized cash register. She looked to be about nineteen, but the sadness in her eyes said her age didn&#39;t matter. Trapped in this shithole highway truck stop working a stale-ass job, her future worse than bleak, she now had to deal with someone who wasn&#39;t going along with his part of the script. &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160; I never eat at [...]]]></description>
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		<title>The Art of Rush Hour Traffic by Josh Stewart</title>
		<link>http://twohawksquarterly.com/2008/05/20/the-art-of-rush-hour-traffic/</link>
		<comments>http://twohawksquarterly.com/2008/05/20/the-art-of-rush-hour-traffic/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 20 May 2008 09:01:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>AULA Editor</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Antioch University]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[aulapress]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Highway]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Literary Journal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[road]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[traffic]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Two Hawks Quarterly]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Everyone is leaning forwards as though the wind is dragging them             backwards through the day, but the cars are inching ahead,   barely moving, but in a hurry to reach another ending that you wouldn&#8217;t find in a fairy tale.   People going the same direction have never before gotten in each other&#8217;s way this much. None of them will             brave the night,             take to these empty roads   with the knowledge that the truth is waiting behind the highway. You&#8217;ll find it in the headlights, struck dumb and blind but staring you in the eye, fearless.         About the Author Josh Stewart has just completed his degree at the University of Toronto in English and philosophy. He likes hats, sushi, and summer. He is also doing some volunteer work for Inscribed Magazine and the upcoming magazine *.]]></description>
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		<title>Bugs By Morgan W. Strauss</title>
		<link>http://twohawksquarterly.com/2008/05/20/bugs-by-morgan-w-strauss/</link>
		<comments>http://twohawksquarterly.com/2008/05/20/bugs-by-morgan-w-strauss/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 20 May 2008 00:01:09 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>AULA Editor</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[almond farms]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Antioch]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Antioch Literary Journal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Antioch University]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Antioch University Literary Magazine]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Antioch University Los Angeles]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[bugs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Central California]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Central Valley]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[crimanimalz]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[driving]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[drugs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Freeway]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fresno]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Highway]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[hydracodone]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Morgan Strauss]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[road trip]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[San Joaquin]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sharks]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[straightedge]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Two Hawks]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Two Hawks Literary Journal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Visalia]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[windshield]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://aulapress.wordpress.com/?p=413</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[            Instead of thinking about Sonny, his traveling companion wishes she were in Spain.  How far of a drive is it from Granada to Barcelona?             Twenty miles south of Fresno a sign says Visalia 24 miles. Sonny pilots the car with dirty hands, a torn shirt, an unintentional beard, last year’s haircut and a diet of ice and ketchup packets.  He looks over at his traveling companion and notices that the blood that dripped from her nose has been wiped away; still, a few unavoidable drops stand out on her collar.             “My body hates me,” Isabella admits as if it isn’t obvious.  “I should get out of here and get my shit together.”  She attempts to quiet a self-ridiculing laugh but a small whistle pushes past her septum.   The whistle tears into a snort as it hooks on membrane and cartilage.             “Oh yeah, because that’s worked for so many people.  Good luck with that.  I could have left you at the hospital.”             “No, you couldn’t have,” she says.  The car kills insects that hover in the air above the road.  She counts them for a moment.  One.  Two.  Three.  Four.  “That waitress looked [...]]]></description>
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