The Bronx Zoo in my mind was empty. Maybe the gazelles were milling around Yankee Stadium, waiting for Catfish Hunter. The green grass of memory, my synapses folding in the sweeping July breeze, beheld the sweet roots of my birthday candles, climbing the kitchen air like lithesome monkeys, nimble as the imagination.

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He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet. The worse part was not the attempt on his life via drowning in ice water. It was not that he was probably on the verge of hypothermia like this. It was not that he had lost Labyrinth to the bottom of the lake. It was not the twitching brow and veiled contempt Solaris was expressing from him dripping water on his floors, mixed with his concern for his overall state of being, because all that could be fixed with a towel and a day of work.

No,...

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I flip through my old books, looking for more of my old letters, so far I've found one to Santa, in a book about dinosaurs that I've had since kindergarten.
I find an old copy of The Bible, the same one I used to read for my Sunday school work when I was younger and still thought that people were good and that if you were good people would be too.
I find a letter to my wife in our favorite book of poetry and I wonder why she left, she never said goodbye, or that anything was wrong.
And...

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Mal says, "Don't think this'll pass, and I'll cool down and think the chill of my loneliness can be warmed by blanket of your love. Your love is a cold, salty bar rag."

"I waited by your side for months until you healed. No one else ever came to see you," cried Layla.

"Yeah, well, who asked you? Maybe I put myself in that coma for a moment of peace. Christ, you can't take a hint. And get that kid outta here. Wasn't mine, even in theory.

"And neither were you."

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It was the fifth night in cell 16, my reflection staring back at me. The lights had gone out on the evening of the second day, leaving me and the rest of the people here shrouded in darkness after 4pm. No one has come to check on us since then, and the food they left me ran out yesterday morning. There were sirens outside, but they stopped yesterday too. I don't know what's going on, or if I'll even find a way out of here, but I hope the family is okay. Jesse always was the dumb one, getting into...

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She cradled the faun's head as it mewed pathetically, legs shaking as it attempted to get up.
"Shh," she cooed to it softly, running her hands down it's glossy coat.
"What is it?" A small voice spoke behind her, making her turn and open up her arms to the small girl stood nervously at the edge of the clearing.
"That's a baby deer." Another voice answered, the familiar form of her husband appearing behind the small child. "It's the first one I've seen for around forty years."
"Are they from before the war?" The small girl asked as she approached...

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Yes he did. Right between the eyes. It hurt like hell. ´Well I don´t think he did it on purpose´I lied. He was just really angry and he got out of control. Jimmy´s face was turning a strange shade of purple, he looked so enraged I thought he was on the verge of losing it. ´Thats it!- On what planet is it ok for an employer to hit an employee! It´s 2011,those kind of things shouldn´t happen!´. He grabbed his keys from the coffee table and moved towards the door. I ran and stood in front of it in a...

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The hero wheeled himself up the burning ramp with his strong, metallic arms, handled the squealing babe with remarkable tenderness, and put the small bundle in his lap before wheeling himself back through the rapidly collapsing corridor. The villain had hoped to dash the President's resolve with the death of her first born, but he hadn't counted on the 'Challenged Challenger' appearing to save the day.

His goal hadn't been so lofty. He'd only come to get his parking pass renewed, but stayed to save a life.

All in a day's work for the city's noblest hero.

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Whitechapel 1888. There was blood on my pillow again this morning when I awoke. My landlady has already been asking too many questions. It is time I moved to another residence.

I am looking forward to reading the newspapers today to gather the latest opinion on the terror in their midst. My good friends have been spreading rumours in many quarters so there have been a myriad of possible suspects, including those in very high places. The police are far too stupid to know where to look. I take especial delight in fooling Inspector Abberline, who should never have been...

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The fat girl at Kentucky Fried Chicken touched my forehead with the palm of her hand. Her skin was oily and she had pimples. There was a green fungus growing on one armpit and I knew that when she was in junior high, she played the trombone. But I let her touch me anyway.

"You are not where you belong," she said. "You are not doing what you are meant to do."

"What am I meant to do?" I asked. "I know it's not to be a porn star because that would mean getting laid and that is something I...

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