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Gettysburg Review
Gettysburg College | 300 N. Washington Street | Gettysburg, Pennsylvania


by Maggie Smith

Inside each tree you open, a room. Inside each room,
a white bed. But who can sleep with lies chattering
in the drapes like trapped birds?

“Chicken Salad”

by Mark Halliday

Three hours before he died,
my father felt he should have an answer
when I asked what he might like to eat.

“The Mother Bed”

by Marcia Aldrich

For my mother’s first wedding, her father commissioned a maple bedroom suite: an armoire, a dresser, and twin beds, all in a French country style, with graceful lines like the lift and fall of willows, and resting on carved claw feet. Twin beds were not a common choice for the bridal chamber, and I have always supposed that by splitting the conjugal bed in two, my grandfather—whose own marriage had been riven by a precipitous divorce when my mother was just a little girl—was saying something sly about matrimony.


by Jeanette Bertles

The children were away at camp, and her husband came up from the city only in occasional, manic bursts; so Katherine Willow drove across the line to French’s Stable, bought a large black horse, and had it placed upon the meadow that sloped southward from her house. She did not go into the meadow, and the black horse, undisturbed, began to switch its tail and finally lowered its head to graze.

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