It was foggy, full of promise for a wet and drizzly day.

As she looked out to sea, deliberately pushing away the gloomy thoughts threatening to take hold, her thoughts wandered to those out there.

Not the ones who still had blood pumping round their bodies but rather those who never made it back to dry land.

Boys and men lost, loved by mothers and sweethearts. Trapped in the wrecks of ancient ships that were now just tourist sites for the seasonal divers.

No such visitors today. Summer was over (had it ever really arrived?) and a new season was...

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It was really quite simple. I called him in to prepare my nightly tea time, he walked into the room and I shot him between the eyes.

Was really his fault. He couldn't be counted on to keep quiet about my nature. Still, it was fun while it lasted. I called in the maids and they promptly set upon his body for removal. It was something like a week and I had gone through almost a dozen staff. They buzzed like flies when I needed them, but just could not keep to themselves when it came to keeping secrets.

So...

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She opened the envelope and screamed.

It wasn't a scream of happiness. It wasn't a scream of surprise. It wasn't the hoped for money that grandma had promised. It wasn't the test results; they wouldn't come for another week.

It was a finger. In the bottom of the envelope. Dry of blood. Shrivelled and pale and a stub, a nub.

She dropped the envelope and scuttled back into a corner, her fist jammed into her jaw. Her eyes wide, she stared at the finger, as it lolled out of the envelope.

She could smell smoke. It had to be a...

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As soon as Roger grabbed my wrist, I knew the spell was broken. Silence had been my way of being. Silence, yes, on the outside. But inside? Screaming. Screaming an Ella Fitzgerald glass shattering scream. But Roger's fat fist around my bloodless wrist created an outlet for me. Finally. THere was no way in hell he was going to take my sister's banana bike. I may not have spoken for the first 9 years of my grade school existence, but I wanted to make sure She WOULD.
I flipped out of the wrist hold with a Karate move my brother...

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Freewrite had been studying the whole damned week.
It was a chaotic week, filled with dark-roast coffee and cotton sweaters, self induced wakefulness like a ritual. Now, it was Thursday, and Freewrite still hadn't completed his research. He sat groggily, frustrated, hunched over a dark cup of coffee with a pen in his hand and a book to his left.

On the other side of the desks were threescore discarded books that had offered little relevance to him. Friday was tomorrow. Freewrite looked at his wristwatch. It was already 9:58 pm.

Freewrite realized that his thesis was due the morning...

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One day, in the morning, not the afternoon, I was eating cheese. When I finished my block of cheese I noticed that there was an interesting amount of wind outside and I thought to myself, "Self, let us harness this power." So as I wrote down my many ideas of how to harness the power, one sprang out off of the paper and said "Use me!". It was my idea to harness wind with wind. I decided to blow up 6 balloons, 3 pink, 3 purple. I would travel the world, literally wherever the wind took me, because, if you...

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I broke away from him and held my unbrella over my head as I walked, my head held high. "Erika! Erika!" I stopped in my tracks, spun on my heel and stared at him. "What?" He didn't move closer to me even as people jabbed and pushed past him on the street. The fresh raindrops fell onto my outstretched hand and created a gentle humming sound as they hit the ground around me. "I'm sorry. I never should have said that." He was right, he sure shouldn't have said that to me. But then... He just stood there, rain dripping...

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It's 2.35 pm now and Mary is sitting in the room. She is bored and restless. She has been restless for most days. She misses the one person who has changed her life drastically.

Mary was always the girl who is eager, fun loving and very much in love with life. She loves the wind in her hair, the pleasant birds chirping in the window. She is easy to be around with.

But this time of day, she was restless.It is not about the heat of the sunny day or the humidity of the weather. She misses someone. She is...

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"Send it back," he said, his mouth shaped like a cruel stink.

"Why, whatsa matter with it?" I laughed.

"It's not a twist, that's a wedge. I didn't ask for a goddamn wedge. This is not an ice tea."

The busboy removed the drink, soon replacing it with another.

"Are you goddamn kidding me? This is the same thing. Do you know what a twist is?"

"Yeah," said the busboy, "it's what my fate has suddenly taken."

And he drank it down. Wedge and all.

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Gene quickened his pace. All the way from the pub, he had felt the presence of someone following him. He daren't look around, you read all sorts of things in the newspapers, God only knew who, or what, was behind him.
He was nearly home now anyway, another five minutes and he would be safely tucked up behind closed doors. Away from harm. He never usually walked home alone, but he was feeling a bit under the weather today, so had set off before the others. Truth be told, they were annoying him a bit with their curmudgeonly ways.
The...

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