Thank you to all who entered the 2021 Dillydoun International Fiction Prize. The competition is now closed. Winners will be announced by December 31, 2021.



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Until TDR Issue 11 Online Publication

TDR Daily Featured Fiction,
Nonfiction, and Poetry

2021 Dillydoun International
Fiction Prize

Competition Now Closed.
Winners will be announced by
November 30, 2021

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Previous Issues

October / Issue 9
September / Issue 8
August / Issue 7


The Poem Everyone Writes

A Poem by Julie Benesh is the one about passing time: those old movieswhere wind blows the calendar pages and clocksrun down; the commercials where kidsgrow up in an instant or morphinto their paunchy parents. But there’s that other poem that stops timelike a snapshot that is not your weddingor anything designated special. Just a…

Gone Fishing

A Poem by Chloe Bausano As the storm outside hits its stride I feelthat I am sitting inside of an inverse goldfishbowl. A pink, felt cowboy hat that I bought inTennessee watches me peer through the heavydroplets on the window, pressing me into this cocoon of peppermint tea, heavy blankets, andmemories. Days like this call…

Home: Finding My Way in the Maine Woods Part 3: Promised Land

Anthony EmersonCovering FAMILY, PLACE, AND HEALTHTDR Regular Contributor / October 20, 2021 Part Three: Promised Land There is a place that I love so much I wish nobody else knew about it. And yet, people do know about it. I’ve seen other souls haunting the space, blind to my reverence and sense of ownership over…

Minneapolis Almost a Year and a Half After George Floyd’s Death

Nicole ZelnikerCOVERING A YEAR LATER: HOW LOCAL COMMUNITIES CONTINUE TO ADVOCATE FOR BLACK LIVES AFTER GEORGE FLOYD’S MURDERTDR Regular Contributor / October 19, 2021 George Floyd’s death resonated with people across the country and around the world. In the immediate aftermath, protests cropped up in cities near and far. Politicians and grassroots organizers have come…

My soul sits at the edge of Arlington and Washington DC

A Poem by Anita Nahal Quietly awaiting my return. Arms crossed, kinda slouched, in grass blades drenched to their core, at the corner of where Arlington and DC shake hands. Puddles around me…tiny pools of hope glistening and swaying, grooving with drops that fall incessantly. Not the stormy kind. Enough to wet me, though leaving…

Poem About Pee

A Poem by Michael Cox-Maldonado for Fred D’Aguiar To search online if it’s your prostate?Petrifying, like spottinga poison tree frog on your palm.A lump that pollutes.My professor, polite and playful,I will write, just like you.Us drinking Shock Top at Wolfgang Pucks.Picture us poeticizing with all the p’s and piss.Pick up the pace? How with plague…

Regular Contributors



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That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you’re not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.

F. Scott Fitzgerald