Gigantic. Positively so. It towered over the shelves, reaching to the ceiling. The blue paint shone brightly. I reached up to the chest.

It was a masterpiece, if I say so myself. This creation of mine is a marvel of modern technology. I turned the switch, and the servos inside whirred to life.

The automaton lurched a step towards me, electricity sparking from the antennae on its head. I had programmed it with a sense of right and wrong. I had orchestrated a scenario to test its power. I looked out the window, and saw the fire spreading across the...

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As I clench the sweet smelling flowers in my hand, I stare into his perfect emerald eyes.

In this moment I remember why I love him so much. Every moment that I am with him, I feel warm, comfortable, free.

The sun smiles at me and the breeze sings a song that calms my racing heart, though I do not know why it is racing. I look down to see his emerald eyes, now staring up at me. I am captured by them, though then I am drawn to something else- his hands. Within them lay a velvet navy box....

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We were eating tuna fish sandwiches on the green outside the palace. The sandwiches were soggy but we ate them anyway. The sky and the water were dusk. "It's dusky," I said. "No," she replied.

We ate the soggy sandwiches as we stared at the sky. When you're lost in thought, your sense of taste dims. Staring at the sky and down at the water, I could feel my taste buds run up to my eyes. I could almost taste the sky.

I could tell you I tasted the water, but it just tasted like water. Soggy.

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If I just write something, what if I reveal something unsavoury about myself?

What if I mess up the spelling?

What if I am under so much pressure to knock something out in six minutes that I don't write anything? A single blank page permanently appearing on my profile as a record of my inneptitude?

What if I write about something uncool, or unninteresting? First impressions count, after all. I'll be an outcast before I've even started.

Maybe I could just leave here and never come back. All this would be a brief, awkward memory. I could add it to...

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You can count me out. You really think I'm going to use that thing? that dangerous, weapon-like thing? You really think I'm going to lug around four pounds of dead animal flesh? Think again. Don't even get me started on the sphere of death as I like to call it. Have you noticed how it comes toward its victim, hurling itself through space at a hundred and seventy-five miles per hour, no conscious, just aim and fire. It's not for me. I'm not saying I'm a wimp, I'm not saying you're crazy. I'm saying I have no wish to die....

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There was blood there. On her hands and arms. The dress was white once. White as her bridegroom's teeth.

For the family and for honor. For her grandmother and grandfather. Never for her. Nothing for her.

The wedding was special. The whole family came to see Chi Ling marry into what was the richest family in Beijing. Such an accomplishment. They complimented her mother and her father for making the match. Mounds of food decorating the reception hall. Her family got drunk on wine while his hid behind their paper fans, whispering that he'd only married her because her family...

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Birds have always terrified me. Sinister black eyes. The ability to fly. The fact that they evolved from dinosaurs and you know they are just waiting, biding their time until they decide to revolt and take over the world.
So, having to feed my aunt's cockatoo while she was away on vacation, was a constant struggle between fear and responsibility.
I would go to her house after school, and pour the seed or feed or whatever he ate through the bars of his cage. I then turned on the radio. The cockatoo apparently liked the classic rock station while he...

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My father and I were lying on the beach wondering why the moon looked larger than usual. My father argued idly--something about the flat terrain and the empty skyline. "If we could see a house, or a tree, or a traffic light, it wouldn't look so big."

It was a stupid explanation, but we are not the kind of people who carry iPhones, and whip them out to settle any debate. We hate those people. They ruin everything.

We'd been drinking wine from the motel's paper cups. We'd run out of wine a long time ago, but occasionally we still...

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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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Not really that pretty
But lovely
Strong
flowing

She sat on the beach watching the last sunset
We were tense and sad but the sun did not care

When I remember will I think of the beautiful sun?
The beautiful you?
Not really that pretty
Striking, alive worthy of the perfect sunset

And so much more

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