It was like the time he thought that Daddy was hurting Mummy, he was sure. He was certain there'd be a Reasonable Explanation, like when Mummy shouted at God in the middle of the night, and asked Him for 'more'.
He was trying to work it out, to see what the Reasonable Explanation could be. Sometimes there isn't one. One morning when Granddad Alan was alive and he was staying at the house, he'd found his granddad eating Smokey's SuperRabbit food for breakfast with Mummy's red label milk.
He'd tried to see the Reasonable Explanation but there hadn't been one,...

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Fault.

The window?

The guardrail that gave way?

The father who opened the window earlier?

The mother who moved the ottoman too close to the window?

The gate that inexplicably stopped being baby-proof that night?

The nanny who ran into the other room to grab his bottle?

The parents who were away at a colleague's baby shower?

The decision to buy an apartment on the 15th floor?

The gusty winds that day?

The decision to go to the party?

The invite?

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But I call it "swing theory." It's sort of an uneducated, improvised explanation of how everything clicks. How one digs the atom. Why one gets so coo-coo for photons. What hip event is on the horizon.

It's crazy, baby. Quantum bums.

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The time it will take is an enormous thought. Just to really accurately describe the amount of time it would take would in and of itself take a mind boggingly large amount of time. Big project. Big, big project. But if you start at one end and finish at what I assure you is the other end even though you can't see it now and likely won't for several months. If you bring enough soup and a change of underwear and mittens for the winter months then I can guarantee you and I mean rock solid guarantee you that at...

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The neighbourhood fox strut his way down the lane like he just don't care, with his evil laugh he knew he had the family dog captain in his hands. TIgger followed fox down the lane seeing his model catwalk and mocking him for fun. Tigger tried to put his foot one after another but then tripped. he got back up and shaked his heavy head and had a serious face. TIgger had to do something to save the family dog captain even though they never get along with each other tigger had to do something, like there's nothing going on...

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"Ugh," Shiloh said, rolling her eyes over the steaming cup of coffee that she had been holding for the last twenty minutes.

Her boyfriend Micah looked across the table and couldn't help but let out a very quiet laugh. "What?" he asked, still laughing as he did.

"Don't what me," she replied softly, shaking her head as she took a very long sip of her still piping hot coffee. "Don't, Micah. You know exactly what that ugh was for."

After Micah had graduated from university with a degree in chemical engineering, he had convinced himself that he didn't want a...

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Knives had always fascinated her. Not in a violent way; she didn't want to use the knife on anything more gory than chicken or steak. But the feel of a really good quality knife in her hand, the shine of the metal, the balance, the tang running into the handle - all of these things gave her a curious satisfaction. She spent hours in Debenhams and House of Fraser testing various knife sets. Her favourite, yes she had a favourite knife, was a butcher's knife. The long, wide blade just screamed power and efficiency at her. A paring knife was...

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"I gotta get out of here" he cried.

The room began to spin as he collapsed and sank against the wall. This was only the fourth time he had tried this method, and yet he was still shivering from the cold. Was only his fault he couldn't swim very well in the dark, he was just disoriented from being stuck in the room for so long.

"Now, now Mr. Stevens. No use getting all wet and miserable on my behalf." A voice softly chuckled above him.

Stevens could clearly see that the intercom in front of him was glowing red....

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All Sam had wanted was a ride.

He's grown up in the Mid West, eaten his breakfast from cereal cartons plastered with the faces of lost children, so he knew the dangers. Still, it was raining. The weather was crap, and out of the falling rain the white ambulance had come like an angel of mercy. It's flashing lights were off; only the fog lights cut through the gloom, shining on him like a halo.

"Want a ride?" called the driver over the water's roar.

Indeed, he did. His goal, simply to get from point A to B in relative...

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War. Criminals. Theft. Violence. These things could not settle in his mind. As soon as they floated in they flew out. His thoughts were too preoccupied with positive, nostalgic memories. He felt no more sadness, anger, frustration towards the world. The only concept that could attract these ideas to his head is the same one which invokes passion, determination, hope into his heart. His love was an oxymoron. Numbing him to the world yet causing so much strife within himself, within his ideas of romance.. of Rome. The only thing that had any significance in his life lived a thousand...

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