Some rotten git had destroyed the nest. Only one chick survived. I cradled him all the way home. Mum made up a 'nest' in a shoebox and I went out digging for worms.
'He don't want worms just yet' my mum said and she brought a bowl of bread soaked in warm milk.
That's how Sammy the Song Trush came to stay.
As he grew older he began to hop around the house. My brother would lay on the floor with a Pot Noodle and Sammy would perch on the rim and pick out the noodles. We all found this...

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Mr. Marlin calls it the "war effort" though it's not a war. I see effort, but not of a thoughtful variety. Everyone involved is dressed in the same color. Any tool is a weapon. They'll be murdered, the whole lot of them.

"I told you this day would come," shouts Mr. Marlin. Imagine waiting on such a horrible day. It was only morning but the skies were growing dark. Cloudless and dark. He threw a croquet mallet at me.

I stared at it like it was a frozen dog.

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The old man walked through a park. His suit was great, with a white shirt underneath and a grey tie. Meandering, he strolled along the walk way, no intention to end up anywhere.

He appeared to be in his 70s, although, the hazards of age seemed unnoticeable in his demeanor. He didn't shuffle, he wasn't hunched over and his head did not hang.

He glanced at his watch.

"Dear me, I am going to be late."

His meandering stopped and his direction became purposeful. His gait was long and graceful. Men his age should not cover this much distance.

Rounding...

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The pistol was cocked, ready to go. The asassin tracked the victim across the city, determined to finish his mission. He slid through the shadows, his black clothing blending perfectly with the night. Suddenly, the victim stopped. The killer was on alert at once. he lifted the 45. caliber and readied himself to pull the trigger. Suddenly, it all went black. He had been knocked to the gr

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The year was 1986. She was five and happy. But she did not want to be six. There was something about six that scared her, put her on edge, made her think of grown up things like losing teeth and moving up to the next class with the mean teacher who didn’t allow her pupils to laugh during lessons.

So she came up with a plan to hide. She took her favourite toys (she was five, after all) and a little food and a carton of juice and crawled into the loft where no one ever went. There was nothing...

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The magic of it was so simple, so obvious that she found it hard to beleive that no one else could see it, that no one else had attempted it before.
Just step off the ledge and let everything fall away. Remove the shackles that are holding your feet to the ground. Let go of the mortgage payments, the deadlines, the constant bombardment from advertising companies telling you that you absolutely needed their product in your life.
Forget about the birthday cards you must send or the work emails you need to write.
Realise that they're not important, that none...

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He watched in the side mirror as the car got closer and wondered who was in it, what were they doing?

Maybe they were a family on vacation or, like him and his partner, two businessmen on a trip.

No, he thought to himself. They were spies sent to take him and his companion hostage for their new software. His company recently designed a powerful anti-virus program and were likely to take down Norton, McAfee, and the other giants int the industry. So, of course they would want to bring his company down. But, what the men in the car...

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"Honey?"

"What is it?" Sharon asked, not looking up from her work.

"Do you know why there are a couple of police outside wearing masks?"

"Um ... can't say that I do," she lied. Damn. They weren't supposed to get here so soon.

"Shall I let them in?" Camden said.

"Sure," Sharon replied. "We have nothing to hide, right, dear?"

A minute later, the two were standing before her in the living room. "Sharon Vasquez?" one of them said.

"That's me," Sharon said blithely.

"You're under arrest."

"What for?" she said, trying to sound indignant.

"The charge is causing a...

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There is a place, near where I used to live, that looked like this - you see it, right there? It's a bowling green. Not the bowling you and I would do, the bowling that belongs to another age. Mostly the elderly.

There were, in fact, two near me - high amusement, I can tell you, since we came to the conclusion that one had decided it was a rival for the other. And that said other had no idea that it existed. That this perceived rivalry would fuel them entirely, even though the other lived in blissful ignorance of...

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The disco ball turned on its dusty axis, shining pixels of glitter light across their worn faces and twinkling in their liquid eyes. Eyes that darted to the front door when someone walked through. This hotel bar was the opposite of pretension, the only tension coming from the anticipation of meeting someone to make the night less lonely.

He came in for a beer--procrastinating to book his hotel for a corporate conference plus budget cuts at work meant he had a room at a low budget hotel. All the eyes followed him as he took a spot at the bar....

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