100 feet away Mulder knew the Sasquatch was waiting. This was it, the moment of truth.

Jonas, the new field agent crunched towards him, dry twigs breaking the silence, seeming oblivious to the gestures from his superior to stay still. The shrilling of his cell phone ruined the whole operation.

'Mulder, you know that it couldn't have been what you were hoping.' Scully's eyes told him everything he already knew. He was on his own with this certainty.

His sources were trustworthy.

Next time he would go on his own time. And even if he did find solid evidence he...

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He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet. The pool house was quiet, Jessica had left an hour ago to explore the local town with Daniel in tow, and Mother was still outside cackling as his brother danced his best victory dance.
Where to hide? He knew that he couldn't get the furniture wet, his Mother was volatile at the best of time and damp upholstery was a sure fire way to ruin everyone's afternoon.
He walked through into the small conservatory he had helped his father build round back the summer before last, it...

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There was pandemonium at the track. Not the racetrack, not the dog track, not even at the running stadium. Nope. It was down on the railroad tracks.
The train driver had spotted a dog on the track and, being an animal lover - a lover of animals, that is, he applied the brakes a bit too sharply. This resulted in the slight derailment of the engine and most of the carriages.
People were quick to disembark and it appeared that there had been no fatalities and only one or two casualties. People wandered around aimlessly searching for the dog that...

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I did not like the look of it. It had what other people might call poor aesthetic value. This thought was somewhat pointless though considering the mastery within the thing. It was about the size and shape of a lighter but had the colour and rough, jagged, texture of sea washed rocks.

Jenny had always said to be careful in what I was doing. Everyone else either seemed to think I was a bit eccentric or maybe more commonly just a nut case. I think Jenny only worried because she had sympathy for me though. I resented that. In reality...

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How did we meet? You really want that story again honey? Okay, then.

Well, it was ten years ago, your father was a student and I was visiting an old friend of mine. We were on our way out to a club to listen to this band...

No honey, I don't remember which band, because I never got to the gig. No, I don't know if they were any good... Look, do you want me to tell you this story or not?

Right, so we were walking to the bar where the band was supposed to play and to get...

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Silence. Stillness. That's all I wanted. The screaming, the yelling, dishes breaking, I had to get away from it all.

This was supposed to be a family vacation, we were supposed to take time away from the every day to get to know each other better, to 'talk about our problems'. Thanks, Dr. Freud, but I don't think that's going to solve any of our problems. This little cottage overlooking the lake isn't going to make us understand and love one another.

Nobody notices when I walk away - they're too busy arguing. I've always been the quiet one, they...

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(To read Part 2, follow this link: http://sixminutestory.com/stories/somewhere-better-part-2.)

Gigantic.

The voice was gigantic, though how such powerful sound came out of such a small creature was beyond her.

The furry animal was sitting back on its haunches in the tall emerald grass, looking up at her as if anticipating something.

She shifted uneasily. "You said you call yourself Someone Good?" she said. "What kind of a name is that?"

"We name ourselves by our attributes," said the creature, in its gigantic voice, which seemed to be full of every meaningful thing. "We are good," it continued. And from behind her,...

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In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley all the way back to England where he discovered that it had been a mistake, he was meant to be in France, 1945. Time travelling isn't as accurate as all that.

Perhaps he would ought to do something a bit different for a change. Go back home. See what changes have been made. Would it be recognisable?

Jack the Ripper decided to return Whitechapel. 1888. London.

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I clung to the mast as the sea tossed them from wave crest to furrow and back again. This was not what I'd thought it would be when I volunteered to document the tallship's maiden voyage.
The curse of the weatherman'd struck at the worst of times. The forecasters had confidently predicted firm winds but that the real storm would happen far south of the ship. They'd proudly proclaimed fair weather for the day's sailing with winds at our backs and sun overhead.
I wondered what they thought, staring at their radars and maps, tallying numbers, crunching data. Did their...

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The words hit me like a ton of bricks, cutting into my chest like knives as I remind myself to breath. I feel myself take a step backward. I couldn't be in more pain right now if he'd struck me. He stops talking to me and just stands there in front of me. I can't believe that he... I look up at him but I can't see anything through my tears anyway. Judging by the look in his eyes, I could think that he feels sorry for hurting me. He never wanted to say that. The knives of pain that...

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