Gorgeous, yes. but pretty? No, that was reserved for young girls and poofy dresses. She was Beyond pretty. Uck, just saying it made her cringe. Pretty?
and he thought he had given a compliment.

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"Eff off rain! I want a tan, not for my green shirt to get wet!"

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My mother was not svelte. She spent her life washing clothes, lifting children, and hauling sacks of potato and flour from the market to our small apartment in Flushing. My father frequently looked at the Sears catalog, commenting on the models within. "Why don't you look more like this one?" he would ask, as though the answer weren't obvious. My father did not look like Marlon Brando (young), and my mother did not look like Marlene Dietrich. Yet somehow, I never heard my mother ask my father why he didn't look like this one. Long suffering, some might say.

She...

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Who is that person in the corner of my room? is it a person? is it an animal of somekind? Perhaps I should have looked more closely. I mean, come on? How did that person, that thing, get into my room? If it is a person, I'll bet it's the kind of person who thinks its funny to disturn a teacher's class when they are tyriong to do an activity that will benefit eveyrone, because on the STAAR test, well...you know what that test is all about. if it is a person, and that person did make me upsetin that...

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The dapper man picked up a penny. It was the most gorgeous penny he had ever seen, its beauty shone in the afternoon sunlight, and he thought it reminded him of his youth. This old dapper fellow had been standing on the corner and observed from the corner of his eye this glistening copper object. several minutes before he had been thinking of how his wife had undercooked the roast and he had thrown his wheelchair at her,luckily she dodged and it only hit their crippled son henry. so she sent the old dapper fellow on his way and took...

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He exited the train at Buenos Aires, and was glad to leave the station with its oppressive heat and even worse humidity. He eagerly sought fresh air, but was disappointed; the air conditioning in the station might have been primitive, but it was better than the heat of the blazing sun.
Despite his best efforts, he shivered uncontrollably. "I need a damn drink!" he muttered, and turned in search of a bar. He entered the first one he came to, and slumped at a table, calling for a beer, which the bar tender brought to him reluctantly, though his attitude...

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There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.

I can't tell if he means me harm or not - he's not doing anything. He's just standing there.

I'm not certain if he knows that I'm here. Maybe he isn't certain if he's here.

I can't quite bring myself to approach him; I know I should do, I'm a scientist at heart, I should be testing my experience, the environment. Verifying what I think I'm seeing, what I'm perceiving.

But I'm also a coward at heart; a self-preservationist, a vulnerable young woman. With a strange man in her bedroom.

I...

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"What'll it be?"

"Jack."

"Want ice."

"No."

The bartender pours the brown liquid into a tumbler. I wait patiently.

"First time here?"

"No."

I take a swig and end up downing the whole glass. I point down at the empty vessel. He answers my request.

"Funny, I don't remember seeing you come in here before."

The place was a empty. It was late on a Tuesday, understandable why there wasn't a crowd in here. The lights were dim and mahogany colored bar reflected what little light it could find.

"Yeah, it was a couple of months ago."

I point again....

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I put my heart and soul into everything I write. Snaps, anyone who reads the things I put on paper, learn too much about me...

They will learn how much I feel, the things I've lived through, the things I've endured.

I'm I really ok with someone, anyone knowing me that well?

Strangers reading my works, I don't mind. They don't know me from Adam. But people that know me, even if it isn't very well.

Reading one of my stories, my poems, they will get to know me, on a level I'm not sure I'm ok with.

I put...

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She adjusted her headset and waited for the butterflies to move across the screen in 3D. They danced in front of her and then skittered away into the tall pines, Dany sighed as she heard the commentary coming through her headphones; "Buta Fliys existed until the 30th century when they were destroyed in the final neutron war along with all living creatures on earth. We recreate them for your pleasure and hope that this trailer will whet your appetite for our 3D calvalcade of the dead,

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