Only four days were left until the end of camp, and he'd resigned himself to his fate. He wasn't going to talk to the girl with the ponytail. He had run through the reasons why she would never see anything in common with him, and could almost recite it like a creed of self-defeat.

He saw her at the ridge, looking out over the farms in the valley below. Her headphones were plugged into her walkman, and she seemed completely at peace.

The tape player clunked to a stop. She sighed, took off the headphones and looked around. He realized...

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Dearest Sarah,

I hope that all is well with our family. Please send my love to little Joey and his sister Louise. By my calculations, the temperature back home should have dropped significantly due to our efforts; there may even be snow. They tell me that I'll be allowed shore leave in a month, perhaps two; I look forward to seeing you then.

The light plays tricks on one's mind; we cannot look at it, only observe it through our computers, making it all essentially invisible. It strikes me as ominous that our enemy is so powerful that it is...

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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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He steps on to the yellow line, crossing the line is something he's practised at. It is an art-form, not something he does with paint or words, but step by step, despite the open arms of the person standing alongside him who is trying to make him stop and think. He sees the oranges, standing side by side next to the limes, he wants to pick up a lime and throw it, but a car crawls by and he doesn't, he picks up an orange instead and throws it as far as he can. The orange flies through along the...

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The day after tomorrow, this will all be over. End of the world according to the Mayan predictions. It didn't seem worth sending out any Christmas cards this year and I also avoided presents. Saved all the money and had a holiday of a lifetime instead. I'm back home doing a countdown until the fateful moment. All my life I had been super organised, financially, personally, the household run like clockwork.

This year I gave it all up. Seemed pointless. Clutter and dust fill every room. Expenses unwritten, bills unpaid, I mean why bother if EVERYONE is going to die....

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"Hey Macarena!"

Robert watched in complete disbelief as the group of Anonymous supporters-turned-flash mob began to dance in the middle of the campus. They raised their hands, moving with the music. Several onlookers giggled at the sight,, others rolled their eyes. One yelled out "What's the frequency Kenneth?!"

Robert just shook his head. Crazy kids, he thought.

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Leaving was the easiest decision to make, and the hardest action to take. He'd told his parents he wanted to move out now. He'd found a job, found an adult advocate, and had surprised himself by finding an actual handicap accessible apartment in Savannah.

But, then came the guilt. "Haven't I taken good care of you?" his mother asked. "What did I do?" Her dark eyes shone with pain, but he couldn't decide if it was real or feigned.

"Yes, mama," he said wearily. "You've taken great care of me. Just like any nurse would.' He eyed her as he...

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"HELP"

"There's no hope," the monotone sound of Sarah's voice echoing throughout the silent forest. I could not see her face, but I knew she was angry. "We have to at least try." I am trying to stay positive, ignoring the heaviness on my chest, my sweaty palms, my racing heart. "Correction- you have to try," her voice now sounded like it was mocking me, "You're the one who got us lost, now you've got to figure it out."

Each breath that leaves a cloud of fog before seems heavier then the last. The moon that lights up the sapphire...

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Kid Boxer's dad was an alcoholic and sometimes when he was liquored up enough, or liquored up in just the right way, he would bestow upon Kid Boxer his hard-won, deeply questionable wisdom. Towards the end, Kid Boxer's dad was drinking a lot, so the advice was coming fast and furious.

One thing Kid Boxer's dad liked to expound upon was the idea of going down swinging. "Fuck those pricks. No matter what, you have to go down swinging. Nobody can fault a man for trying, as long as he went down swinging." It was all pretty much like this,...

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Time starts... now.

She took a deep breath, and put her head under water. Her robes flowed around her, clinging weightlessly to every crve and bone, floating up around her ankles before settling, like her, at the bottom of the tank.

Beneath the water, everything seemed muted. She could ignore the audience, the leering faces, the peering eyes, the raucus, crude carnival music hummed softly through the water, muted and beautiful, a world within a world. She liked it in here. No pressure, other than the water around her, slowly increasing on her lungs. She began to breathe out, a...

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