I'm dead. Really dead. Not the "There'll be a twist in the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.

I keep thinking back to how I died.
I don't remember how I died really. I think I fell.
Are you suppose to remember how you die? Or is that weird?
Is there some sort of weird rule of death that you can't remember how you die?

I feel like I can walk everywhere and find no one. Death is strangely lonely and empty. Am I the only one here?

I wish I could tell you what it...

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Sometimes you look kinda creepy when you are happy

Really?

sorry

I mean it is an odd thing to say but well I guess it is what it is, I don't feel creepy

No, no I, I don't know why I said it

It's OK

Yeah, I'm just weird tonight. Everyone is gone and it just me and you..

and?

And? And nothing it is just that you know me and you we never really hung out you know? And I don't know why I keep talking

Look, lets play a game - I will look not creepy and you...

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The blue sun gave off a cold light. The snow seemed to boil under its glare while the trees darkened at their core and whitened at their tips. In the distance I saw a small stall and it gave me pause. I looked over to my partner and he looked back at me, mirroring my confusion. As we drew closer I was convinced that hunger hallucinations had taken complete control. Nothing made sense but this stall made the least sense of all.

But at the first taste of that sweet aching cold I knew that this was real. Out in...

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I'm with stupid.

What an offensive shirt to wear on a first date, I thought as I picked at my salad. As soon as it was socially acceptable, I'd excuse myself to the bathroom, where I'd conveniently get a call from my dog's babysitter.

As we finished dinner, I prepared to make my dash to the bathroom, but he stopped me. "It's the shirt, isn't it?"

"I didn't say anything," I replied.

"I know you didn't, but you definitely noticed it. You'd have to be, well, stupid not to. So here's the story." His voice took on a sad tone....

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The conversation lasted two words: 'Come on.'

She couldn't refuse. His large, blue eyes pleaded with her and as he held out his hand, she smiled and took it. He lead her into the garden and down the narrow path flanked by roses on one side and neat lawn on the other. The sun was beating down on the top of their heads, and he started to run, pulling her along. She started to laugh.

They reached the very spot, and he pointed solemnly. Lisa bent slowly, tucking her grey skirt beneath her carefully to stop herself toppling over. The...

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In the springtime of our country's bicentennial. Two young lovers discovered a large rock, that was weathered in such a way to resemble a table. Underneath this table was a mason jar and in that jar a note was held. This is what it read:

Certainties are immutable, this I know to be true. A firm handshake and jolly pat-on-the-back for a job well done. These over-indulgences of manufactured ardor get old. I was never about love, just understanding. Something that can't be quantified in perceived notions from three hundred years ago.

So I post my stake. I make my...

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The key couldn't break.
Forged by the hand of fate
In the fires of adversity
Her love would mold
The white-hot metal
Into the shape it was meant to take
Then
Cooled by her touch
Quenched with desire
It would unlock
Anything

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I waited for her, all night long I stood there waiting. As the crowd dissipated, I was left erect and waiting. I make a promise and I would not break it. I stood until the last form had left the room and I remained. I now wonder if I had left, would she have came? Was it pure expectations that had pushed her to break a promise? Was it the anxiety that came with battle.. in the end was it my fault? For standing up when no one else would, when keeping a promise that was broken before spoken and...

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Swing.

Pump your legs, stretch your shoulders back, breathe the joyful rush of air, and swing.

Lift your front leg, lean back, transfer your weight towards the ball, and swing.

Grab a partner, shake your hips, move your feet, and swing.

Mind your temper. Think back to happier days: swing sets and baseball games and high school dances.

Be calm. Forgive. Consider the consequences. And if that fails...

Say your prayers, keep your dignity, savour that final sensation of the rope around your neck, and...

swing.

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"So you're saying you didn't see Willie Mason leaving the store Friday night?" PI Dot Post eyed the man sitting in her passenger seat.
"I see no man, no ma'am. Course you know dat."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I see someone leave that store, 'bout 11:45, I reckon, but weren't no Willie Mason. Nah, dis person got curly red hair an' wear army boots."
Dot glanced down at her own foot attire, her hand reaching uncertainly for her auburn curls.
"Aye, I see you, detective lady." He grinned maliciously. "I see you wit' de blood on your hands."
Well,...

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