"Death to the tyrant!" Lorenzo shouted.

Within the crowd, there were many responses. Each one said the same words, "Death to the tyrant", but each man enunciated the words differently. In each utterance you could hear the word being ejected with their personal reasons.

Tremain, in his worldview, saw the king as symbol of the working class oppression that had haunted him his whole life. Why should his money support some overfeed pompous ass who hadn't worked a day in his life? The king does not decide the laws anymore, that is the parliament's job.

Lorenzo, in his wisdom, saw...

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The shoes, they won't stop calling out to me. I walk down the road, in the rain, or even in the snow, and these peachy shoes, with the thin straps that wrapped perfectly under my ankles, they keep whispering.

I bought them discounted over on 16th, at that shoe warehouse place (my sister used to call it the shoe whorehouse, because that's what we'd do to get the money to buy in there, well not really, but almost) and I saw them on the shelf one early Saturday. The shop was empty. These shoes, they called out to me. Buy...

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Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. It was not that she was frightened - no, fear was something she found rather useless - but because she knew with an unshakeable certainty that if she wandered onto the street, she would be eaten by a vampire.

The house beyond the doorway was no better, on account of there being a ghost lurking inside, the type that would drip ectoplasm on her most horribly before devouring her soul.

This girl, then, was at an impasse. She could neither proceed nor retreat. Go out, the...

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She drove at a breakneck speed. Her sister sat in the backseat, reclined against him, eyes rolled up in awe. She turned the corner on two wheels, the screech of the tires raising demons from hell.

Halloween, an old car, her doting sister Cinderella, as stupid a princess as ever, wrapped up in the arms of a 57 year old vampire wannabe.

"HE'S 57!!!" She shouted as the car righted itself. "It's true!" her sister cooed.

"I'm sorry. 57!! and still dressed up as a vampire!"

She punched the gas on the straightaway. The green clock said 5am.

"Vampires are...

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