The Moon would never be the same again. Not after the things I saw, the things I knew that were hiding there. I could never again look up at night without a shudder, without averting my eyes from the horror of it.

The Moon's sickly light, reflected sunlight turned mocking and wrong, crept in through my shuttered windows. I had taken to taping them up, afraid to go out at night, afraid of what might be there.

They walked down on moonbeams, those horrible things with too many angles, walked down and fed. I remember the first time I saw...

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"Don't touch it", he said, "Danny is going to call."
"How can you be sure?" Marcus asked
"He said he would, now sit down and relax. We just need to wait".
The phone sat silent for a few seconds both of them staring intently at its small features, the chrome casing, the fingerprints of the thousands of times it used by others.
"He's not calling" Marcus said softly
"Dammit man, you needs to relax, he said he'll call then he'll call, just wait." Leon paced out his words to making every single syllable count. He was looking past Marcus at...

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Perched upon a thin branch flailing in the wind, the owl cried out into the night, "Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you?" Only the still, dead night and the rustling of branches and drying leaves responded.

I tampered with my oil lamp and let the flame grow tall, casting shadows that played hide and seek on trees. Shadows bounced off of trunks, flickered to the branches, and waned off on the broad, saw toothed leaves.

The owl's cry grew into the night, screeching to the stars, to the trees, to anyone that was willing to listen. "Who cooks...

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In 1921, he flew to the Great Rift Valley. He came back from the world called Calpfinn. The place where not only ordinary people lived in. It was a multi-cultural world. Calpfinn had werewolves, wizards, witches, people with superheroes, but Bob, Bob was something different. He was everything. Bob could fly, he could use his magical spells, he had werewolf claws and even laser eyes if he needed to. So many people in Calpfinn were jealous. Especially Mr Crawlie Patch. Mr Crawlie Patch did not have any powers at all, but he was the best scientist in the world. He...

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It sucked not to be able to find another vent in the city.
Vents.
Those things were the single most useful thing in the city to people like him. And didn't they know it. Which is why any available one was claimed before anyone else had a chance to glance at it.
Hot warm air constantly blew out of it, becoming a source of warmth to huddle towards.
Sure they were right in the middle of the streets, and occupying one drew weird stares from others, but after a while, it wasn't so bad. One learned to ignore their stares,...

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We've heard of monkeys. All kinds of monkeys. We've heard that we're most closely genetically related to bonobos, we've heard about the flying monkeys of Oz, but what we certainly haven't heard enough about is the infamous "Green Monkeys of Bainsville." You're wondering, what are these fascinating creatures, and where do they originate? Well, if you don't know where Bainsville is...you probably never will. It's tiny. It's known for little else than it's rest stop, although it should be known for it's green monkeys. These devilish little creatures love nothing more than getting up to good old fashioned South Glengarry...

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The children were not at school. It was the first snow day of the season, and the buses couldn't get their engines started, so the Board of Education had no choice but to cancel classes. Tyler's parents decided to let him sleep in, but when he awoke at 10 o'clock, Tyler panicked. He leaped out of bed, grabbed his jeans and wiggled into them, pulled a crumpled sweater from his drawer and jammed it on over his pajama shirt, and ran down the hallway to the kitchen, all the while yelling "I'm late for school! I'm late for school! Mom!...

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I held it at arm's length. The adoption paper. MY adoption paper. Why didn't they ever tell me I was adopted? People had often remarked that I didn't look at thing like them - my... parents. Now I know why. I'm not even their daughter! Instead, I'm the daughter of Kaitlynn and Joshua Robins. Really! I can't believe that no one... Why didn't they tell me? I don't think I'll ever be able to believe another "I love you" ever again. How can I after this betrayal? What am I supposed to do now? Well, I suppose I'll see if...

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Chuntao was an anxious young girl, short and dumpy, who for money spent her mornings delivering leaflets advertising pizza to households in her part of Beijing. (For no money she spent her evenings playing the trombone.) It was a tedious and tiring job, and time would drag. One rainy day she reached the doorway of a house which perched at the top of an enormous stairway. Breathless and sweaty, she tripped on the doorstep and dropped her leaflets. As she bent down to gather them up, the door opened.
"Who are you and what do you want?" asked a man...

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I did it just like they told me to: I jumped. Well, that was stupid. I jumped, I hit the ground and never got up again. But, then again, they don't care. They never even looked to see me land. A piece of advice, kids: don't jump. I don't care why you're thinking about it, where you are, or what you think they'll give you for it, you're gonna lose something. For me, I lost everything, but then again, that doesn't matter.

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