Shannon sat up, her eyes wide open. She wasn't sure if she was awake or asleep. She looked around the room (dirty socks, cat puke in one corner, empty Miller cans, a laundry basket filled with clean clothes) and wished it was all unfamiliar. She looked at the man next to her. His back was smooth and tanned. A tiny mole winked at her from his left shoulder blade. She wished he was a stranger.
Shannon lay back down. The pillow was damp with sweat, her sweat. Had she been dreaming or coming out of a fever?
"Where are you...

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It was happening again. Blindfolded, naked, cold and shivering she sat on a chair. She could see herself, as if she was detached from her body. Blood and saliva dripped from her lip and her right eye was swelling from where her attacker had punched her. She had tried to fight him off but he had sneaked up from behind and wrapped his arms around her. She had thought she would suffocate as he squeeze the breath from her body. Blackness surrounded her as she passed out. When she came to she was in the boot of car. She couldn't...

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I hear the crunch underneath my foot. I look down and see beneath me the perfect array of multicoloured dead leaves. I bend down to pick one up and examine it softly with my fingertips. It's a dark shade of red, almost brown, but it still has a tint of green around the edges; as though the leaf had died too soon. I smiled, before scrunching it in my hand and feeling that satisfaction of the noise it made.
I continued walking along the path in the woods. My dog was way ahead of me now and probably not wondering...

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I have been frustrated for weeks. Can't come up with any ideas about 3d printers - articles or fiction I've been asked to write. Suddenly I realised a way around this. I sneaked out some brain matter from the lab at work and re-created objects on the machine that I then used in a way I cannot explain (for legal reasons). Hence I had my own neverending supply of ideas.

The website editor was beginning to get overwhelmed by the sheer volume and creativity I was producing on a daily basis. I managed his frequent questions as to where I...

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The water was clear. Crystal clear, not so unlike the crystal ball the gypsy read my fate from. I just so wanted to jump in the water. To breathe. To drink. To laugh. To swim.
Ryan begged me not to jump, but I didn't listen...I couldn't. He controlled so much of my life. I wanted to get away. And yet, I loved him still. The clear water was enticing. And brought feelings of hope to my heart.
"Please, Ry, please," I begged. He came towards me and I pressed my lips to the lower corner of his. I felt his...

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The wind blew across the plains, picking up clods of dirt as it ran past, and I gripped my son's shoulder, as if by some instinct. Soon the dust would blow through the cracks in our log cabin, and the kitchen -- the tiny corner we called the kitchen -- would soon fill with what looked for all the world like soot. That we could take. The ground and the wind had been trying to kill us for years. We were used to it. But lately we'd had to contend with spiders. Tarantulas. Tough sons of bitches that put their...

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This was it. Their wedding day. As she walked down that aisle, she felt more like she was walking toward a cliff, with a river full of vicious pirahna at the bottom. She took his hand as the priest started the ceremony. she wondered what she had done to deserve this. It hit, then, like a bolt of lightning. It wasn't her. It was Luke. he'd tricked her at the restaurant, paid the waiter to ask her if she wanted water just as he popped the question. She'd replied to the waiter, and next thing she knew she was walking...

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One scoop of chocolate, one scoop of strawberry. He would always order that. Strawberry would go on top. I have not been in Maddy's six years, and I still remember the order. I wonder where he is now. Did he go to California? Did he take the blond with him? There was always a blond. Does he still have the golden retreiver? I was going to get a sundae, but I think I will order two scoops--one strawberry, one chocolate.

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"Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. I think there's something underneath the bed."

Jacob sighed, rolling over and twisting the blankets in an infuriating fashion. "Anna, you're twenty-five years old. Don't you think you're a little old for this?" Of course, he would say that.

Anna twisted the blankets right back. Blankets were protection. Blankets were life. If she were covered with the blankets and Jacob were not, the rules dictated that Jacob would be eaten and Anna would be spared. Everyone knew that. But Jacob wouldn't let this go without a quarrel.

"Jesus, Anna! I'm cold! It's...

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Pointing skyward, his finger aflame.

"Can you come here a minute?"

Trying to catch the attention of surf but drawing only seagulls, which landed on his fingertip and looked around stupidly in the low sky of November.

My whole life is a finger on fire, and wrong things coming to help. A man wearing a hat. Some flotsam. A ship in the dead of night, a drunken captain

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