Janelle stood behind the old tree she used to climb when that sort of thing was appropriate for girls her age. In one hand she had the invitation to the party that she had printed out despite having long ago memorized all of the important details. In her other hand she held a glossy gift bag with a preposterously large red bow. Her mother had chosen the gift and she hadn't bothered to ask what it was. Her feelings about teh party were ambivalent to say the least. She hadn't heard from Kelly since the incident at Jared's house last...

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The sheep were at pasture. The air was still and crisp, silent but for the rustle of leaves and the drift of a "baa" from the content grazers.

Restless, I turned my eyes to the mountains that were the backdrop of the field, letting my eyes rove over the gray craggy slopes up to the snowy white caps that scraped at the belly of the sky. I felt the chill creep up my spine.

Adventure stretched just beyond these fences. One day, I would become more than this, more than a humble shepard. One day, I would scale those mountains...

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"Travel light, but take everything with you."

It took her a moment to try and work out whether it was meant as a philosphical proposition or actually practical advice. Not that it felt paticularly practical.

Still. One easy solution. "What are you on about now?"

Effective, too. "Everything you need. I don't want to have to use a phrase book to work out how to ask for...what do you always forget?"

"Nothing. Clearly. Or you'd remember. You may well have learnt the lingo for it, if there was just one thing..."

"Sunglasses. You always lose them."

"Ah, well, that's different."...

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"I'm having no part in this. I'm having nothing to do with any of it. Because it's wrong. You're wrong. This entire thing is...it's wrong. It's just...wrong."

"Have you always been good with words?" He sauntered closer, pale fingers tracing my cheek, my neck. "You're relying quite heavily on that word. Wrong. Have you thought about what it really means? How damning it truly is? I don't think you have."

I hated the feel of his fingers across my skin, hated the jolt that had run straight through me, hated the tingling, hated the - I hated it.

He was...

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It confused them, the gnarled branch lying across rows of newly planted wheat. The tree had been healthy and the weather clear. A bob of bushy fur worked its way along the length of the fallen wood as a squirrel investigated the carnage.

Years from now, when the children had scaled the sheer rock face near their home, they'd think back to this day.

"And now where shall we climb?" the boy asked.

"There," the girl replied, a mountain peak under her finge

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Gavin was gloating. "Enjoy your final moments, Kevin ... maybe use them to wonder how I found you. Good-bye ..."

He dismissively gestured at Paul, his personal bodyguard and hitman. Paul, with an expression of a stone, drew a nine-millimeter out of his coat and pointed it at me.

I had to stop him. "Paul, I can give you two very good reasons not to pull that trigger."

Paul said nothing. But he also did nothing. "First: I know where Kendra is."

That got his attention. He still didn't move, though. "She's in China, which you probably already know, but...

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Potatoes. All she could think of were potatoes. Since going on this diet, she was even dreaming about potatoes. Chips, drenched in vinegar; jacket potatoes filled with cheese; mashed potatoes; roast potatoes; any kind of potato. She was obsessed.
Every diet book had drilled it into her that carbs are bad, so if she was to drop two dress sizes before her best friend's wedding then potatoes were strictly forbidden.
She was excited about being bridesmaid, she really was. It was such an honour, though not totally unexpected, she and Haley had been friends since preschool. It was only natural...

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The sky blue sea swayed under the ultramarine sky. The sun is an amphibian, I thought. Then I wondered if any creatures lived in the sky and the water, never touching the land, and what would you call that?

A fisherman walked towards me on the boardwalk, handling a bagpipe. A boy followed with his fingers hooked into collapsed crab traps. A wet nylon rope dragged behind, leaving a wiry, drunken trail from where I never bothered to know.

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They gathered in the woods.

The circle wasn't complete. It probably wouldn't be - they were a dying breed, a dying art.

None of them were sure if the ceremony did anything - if it ever had. The elder members of the group - the ones who were dying out, the ones who were disappearing before they could share enough information to perpetuate them - claimed that it had worked, that it still worked, but the magic was dying with the belief.

The youngest walked the path of the circle, her bare feet already dirty, her old dress (torn, ruined,...

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She'd have preferred the electric chair. The clinic's lobby was a stale tan color. It was April, and there was a Christmas movie on TV for Christ's sake.

Her name was called, and she went to sign the form, pay the co-pay, and was assured by the lady at the desk that this was indeed, confidential. She was asked if the man next to her was the father, or her boyfriend, or something. She lied and said no. He looked upset but ultimately should have been glad that she said no, he'd probably end up getting arrested for rape, anyway....

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