Flying home on a plane always made the man feel the same way. Confronting the (insane, brilliant, necessary) idea of flying through the sky, unnatural (he was an animal after all), yet completely commonplace (everyone does it), consistently put the man in a nostalgic, wistful mood. He'd picture his wife sitting on the edge of the bed, the afternoon sun coming from the window, happy to see him. He'd think on his kids, the way they were; a mixture of exasperation and wonder. He'd think on work the next day.

Grateful. That's how it felt.

He'd cut planes in half....

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I lost my grip on the wheel. The cruise ship went off to the left, then to the right, then dtrihght into a pile of rocks by the shore. Taking on water, I evacualted my crew and passnegers. Once safely on land, I looked around and wondering where in the heck we were. All I saw was slime...pink slime...and a McDonalds on every street corner. What a great place this is! I mean, McDonalds everywhere? That's gotta be good, right? Then I nboticed the people walking around...um, they were all, well, not in great shape? I looked at myself...not Arnold...

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Until now she'd never thought of herself as pretty. But now, in the mirror, the morning light slanted in underneath the almost closed blinds, she did.
He lay, still asleep, his hair tussled, blankets twisted around his midsection, one arm under the pillows, another across his eyes.
She walked softly from the mirror, and stood over him. Her thin fingers reached out and caressed his cheek.
He groaned and turned on to his back.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror once more. She felt like Aphrodite, or Helen of Troy. She bent down and pulled something from under...

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I shot my butler. I never really wanted to though, He was a kind man. It was a week ago, and since then I've been away from home. I've honestly never been past the garden walls, but I guess I deserve this punishment.
It was a bright morning, and the sun was shining graciously. I was hunting the sparrows that land to eat the seeds that were just planted.
Something went wrong. Horribly wrong.
I ran as soon as he died. I had nowhere to go, no money, and was very confused.
Right now I'm on a boxcar train, and...

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The Loch Ness Monster was on vacation. As was the case with most celebrities, Nessie wanted her privacy. This wasn't a working vacation, it was for her own sanity, and she didn't intend to frighten anyone while relaxing in Lake Superior.
Then the stupid dog looked down. Stupid dogs, always looking down. Nessie was in the middle of her favorite book, "Flowers in the Attic" and she popped up very briefly just to see if it was raining or night, or if there were any passing UFOs she could snack on. Instead, there was a dog.
"Shoo, stupid dog!" she...

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Jane lay on the couch coughing. She hated being sick.

"Someday," she thought to herself, "I will be immortal, and I will never be sick again." But that day would not arrive for a very, very long time. Not with Safura around.

Safura. Jane's blood boiled in anger at the thought of her nemesis. Her anger made her cough again.

It was Safura who had taken Jane's medicine, Safura who had plunged Jane into this twilight of never-ending sickness. Jane had been so close - SO CLOSE! - to gaining immortality in the weeks before her diagnosis.

She took a...

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I still washed his shirt. There was only his plaid shirt, because it was what he'd worn. But I still washed it. My son disappeared a few years ago. They found his body by the lake. He was wearing that old plaid shirt. The rest of his clothes I gave to my nephew, about his size. But that plaid short...I'd never give that to anyone. It was his, it was all I had left. The plaid shirt. His room was in perfect condition, but it didn't seem right. But his shirt in my soft-from-washing-so-many-dishes hands. It felt like everything was...

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There is nothing good about Monday. I feel bad every time I think that, because then I realize, "Well, I could be dead, or in Cleveland, and then my Monday would be much worse." And then I feel bad for making fun of Cleveland in my head, because I actually liked it the one time I went there.
Even though I don't do much here, it's hard to escape the native smugness that comes with being from New York City. It is all going on here. The thing is, I don't want to do most of it. I'm pretty internal,...

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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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It came at me. At a speed of lightning. I couldn't think. Speak, or even hear correctly.
The crowbar was flung directly at the side of my head. It nearly missed my face and I could hear the buzzing of crowbar go through the air. Joe ran for me and the crowbar as I sprinted for a safe place.
Joe and his gang were following behind me. There;s now

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