He was one alone among many. He'd served with his brothers since 2001, since the day after that fateful horror descended on his country. The man, Mohammed Ahmed, was a devout Muslim, had been reared in the faith his entire life. He was also a second generation American, born and raised in the Great State of Georgia. Others had always looked at him differently, but he considered himself a Georgian. A Southerner. An American.

So, on September 12 Mohammed Ahmed became Pvt. Mohammed Ahmed, United States Army. He served willingly in Afghanistan, and hesitantly in Iraq. But, he served and...

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Just the facts, man.

That's how it works right? But sometimes facts aren't enough. I need more. I need more.

The pen quivers beneath my grasp, the words necessary to breathe life to this blank canvas escape me, forcing me to dig down into the unfrequented corners of my mind for wisdom, nuggets of truth, or inane ramblings...or all three.

Shoot. This bio is due in seven hours and here I am huddled in a cold basement awaiting inspiration, mind whirring at the speed of light with nothing in the way of progress visible on the horizon.

I begin to...

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Looking out across the fields, Hannah smiled to herself. She had never felt more of a success, than she did right now. She almost wanted to laugh in the faces of the people who had told her she couldn't do it. All the ones who had sneered and ridiculed her dreams. Where were they now? Still back in the City, with their boring lives; working nine 'til five just to pay the bills; stuck in the drudgery of modern living.
Hannah was well free of all of that. Not ever twelve months ago, she had been one of them. High-flying...

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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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Shape. Whatever that means. Forms. You can study the symmetry of symbols we use in written language, words. Formless, shadows, we count them, bend our fingers around, call them dragons, call them dreams. Non-euclidean. Shapes that can't exist. Memories, shapes our minds have been forced to hold. Thoughts, shapes our minds create to deal with hope and fear, which... which perhaps I have a difficult time distinguishing between. Angular, curvature, some caricature of what I thought I'd be at 24. 24. Two shapes, angular and curvaceous.

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The conversation lasted two words: Alright? ...Yeah

It wasn't groundbreaking, it wasn't revolutionary, it wasn't even poetry, but it was all they needed to say.

They had been the best of friends once, closer than brothers. George had had his own room at Jack's house, Jack had had his own shelf in George's fridge. But somewhere along the way, they had lost that.

Was it because Lissy, George's ex-girlfriend had hated Jack, was it because of the fact that Jack went off to uni while George stayed in their hometown, or had it merely been because of the fact that...

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The only thing that felt worse than being left alone was being left alone at nighttime.

It was 2004 and Keri was 18; visiting Zak's downtown apartment after he finally kept a promise and picked her up to see him.

On his mattress on the floor - crumpled blankets, the two of them in t-shirts and underwear.

He got high, they watched MTV until 4am; in between he ate Cheetos and asked Keri to marry him. He always, always, talked about how beautiful their children would be. How could Keri say yes when she was 18? How could she say...

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Gigantic.

That was the only way she could describe it. A gigantic mistake.

He had seemed like an excellent choice. A little daring, a little dangerous, but still good-looking. Still smart. Law-school bound and blonde, he could have been taken home.

Waking up in an historic apartment in the Highlands the morning after the Kentucky Derby was romantic. Especially on such a sunny. He pointed out the dog walkers while still wrapped up in white sheets.

She should have never said she knew what she was doing.

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Wine makes you drunk if you drink too much. I like wine. Its like grape juice with alcohol. They should put it in juice packs and give it to adults. If you drink wine while your pregnant, then your baby will get messed up and look like a raisin. i like raisins. they are grapes that got old and they got shriveled up, like my uncle. He drank too much wine and got messed up. My mother doesn't drink wine anymore. It kills you slowly.

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I thought the world had been tilted upside down. It would have been preferable to its actual state. Everything looks nicer upside-down. The castle glittered across the water, upside-down. What was above it was only a reflection, of course.
I looked at myself in the water. My reflection looked at me. No, I looked at my reflection. My reflection was the real me.
Nothing's as we thought it was, I thought, amazed at the simplicity of it all.
I could start again! All my mistakes could vanish in this upside down world... Nothing would be the same, but everything would....

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