It was within reach.

She just had to keep walking.

The key was to never stop.

Her heart was beating.

Her breath caught in her throat and she choked back a sob.

It had to be here.

Her arms were outstretched as she fumbled through the forest, moving as quickly as she dared over the treacherous ground.

Her shoulders shook as a her fear racked her whole body.

Her back stayed straight and her chin stayed strong, even as her spirit faltered.

They would not have lied to her surely.

They wouldn't have been that cruel.

They couldn't have been....

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Their lives were not timelines, but many intertwining threads, stopping and starting on a whim. Every moment could be a start or an end, a little birth or a little death; it happened when they woke up, after orgasm, in the park or in the rain -- a sudden reconfiguration of the world, a reinterpretation of their thoughts and feelings into something completely new. They had personalities made of Lego bricks, and they loved it.

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Hats. They don't tell you all there is to hats. Hats are of course a fashionable item, they shield for our eyes, a blanket for our head. But hats don't allow your to show your self. I say "self" to describe that brilliant light and vibration that extends from every pore. The fluorescent and transcendent light that seem to be so pure in this tainted world. We all have one. But hats don't let them flow. Hats cover your Crown. Hats hide you.

You don't wear hats. That is when I knew. Your shines like a thousand suns of every...

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The conversation lasted two words: "Never again." They said it at the same time as they exited the restaurant. Why had the waiter insisted on swaying them away from the salmon and toward the tough lamb? Was it deliberate? Did he know this was a make-it-or-break-it meal and was itching to break something, anything? Did he glean from their terse looks that something dire was already on their horizon, and while the kids were asleep, the exorbitant sitter keeping watch, they were out to rehash the missteps that had brought them here? Had the waiter's ex-wife just taken him for...

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The disco ball was turning, splattering little dots of light around the room. James waited patiently in his carefully thoughtout position directly above it. He needed to wait until his target reached the invisible X directly under the big rotating ball of tiny mirrors. His fingers ached but soon, he told himself, soon he would have satisfaction. The man in the suit coat was nearing th X. James positioned the knife next to the rope that held the disco ball. The man was on the X. In one swift motion, James cut the rope and watched as it fell. There...

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Turning the copper penny over and over between his fingers, Miguel slowly let out a long sigh. He stared at the penny that rested upright between his middle and pointer finger, perfectly round, and now perfectly worn, so much so, that one could barely distinguish Abe Lincoln sitting in that giant chair, save for honest Abe's long beard.

Miguel walked on through the dusty streets of a town that sat on the border between his country and the golden land of opportunity. The burning sun started to set, slowly making its way down the flat horizon, setting fire to everything...

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Peasants. The term had only been approved by the Officals a few weeks ago and now, everyone of my Group was referred to as a Peasant. Grandmother used to tell stories about the people who used to be called Peasants. They were basically slaves and very poor but that was hundreds of years ago. Today in 2796, the Officals won't allow anyone to accuse them of abusing their citizens so we are provided with enough food and shelter and clothes to stay alive. Alive. No, that's not right. We survive. Here, we don't really live. At least, not in the...

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The pidgeon man rolled off the sky-scraper. Thousands of birds flew with the updraft, gaining momentum as they hurled their bodies into his back. The crawling taxis below wailed insistently. Pedestrians opened their umbrellas, one by one. Sunset embalmed the towers in reflective flame.

The pidgeon man did not see what was beneath him. He only and always looked up.

His shadow grew on the pavement. He was seconds away from landing, yet the birds continued their sacrifice.

I don't like this piece at all. It is a depressing photo. :(

Read something else.

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This was only temporary.
She told herself this every morning when she woke up, and every night when she laid down. She had been telling herself this for 6 months now and she didn't really believe it anymore but she still said it. This is only temporary. Who was she kidding. It wasn't getting any better. She was surviving but only just. She had used up all her time at the shelters and really families with kids should get priority. She was surviving. She used to have a plan. Things she was going to do to get her out of...

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Spinning. The whole world was spinning.

And not the good kind either. The ground was pitching backward under my feet, making the sky wobble on its axis and vault over me as I hit my knees.

It was so hot... This's heat stroke?

The black asphalt, hotter still than the sun itself, scraped my skin as I went down, the color brightening and blurring across my vision into one massive kaleidescope of obnoxious rainbows, melting together. The sound buzzed unintelligibly in my ears, somehow feeling cold.

"Get out of the way! Move it!" I could vaguely hear the sound of...

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