Lola hummed a song she barely remembered as she sat on the middle step of the front porch. She would have sat on the top step but it had been snapped in half since the previous winter. Jeremy said he was going to fix it. Either later or tomorrow or the next day.

He had been saying that for months. Since spring.

By now she had gotten used to hopping over the hole. Lola hardly even cared if he fixed it or not.

He couldn't even mow the lawn. It was tall in some place, yellow and burnt in others...

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The water was clear as she looked out over the bridge at the river flowing past her. It was as clear as the choice that she knew she had to make. She had to leave. She would not kill her baby. The child didn't deserve to be born to a father who didn't even want it. She could feel the baby kick inside of her as she tightened her coat. He had been really angry when she had told him about the baby - he'd even hit her. She just couldn't go back and risk both of their lives.
She...

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They gathered in the woods. There were seven of them, rangers all. Alifer the Bold arrived first, his great yew bow across his right shoulder. Next came Hurq, the half-orc and Teriel the elf. Three others followed, the human couple Gawin and Meledere, and the half-elf Siri. Lastly, Helena, wisest of them all, arrived with her daughter Adori.

"It is time," Helena said after a moment's silence. "The Goblin King has gathered his armies and readies them to conquer the lands of Gaules." She glanced around at her companions. "We must all prepare," she said. "We must go to our...

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Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. She was looking at her mother, who cried silently.

This young girl wasn't sure why her mother cried, and she was afraid to find out. The last time she found her mother in an emotional state, she was chastised for interfering.

But, Amy couldn't help but look at her mother as she shed tears. In front of her was a plate with nothing but crumbs, a coffee mug, a notebook, and a vase with flowers. From the looks of things, Amy's mother was enjoying a snack....

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Mr. Sippee is the new owner of the Turtle House. Mac and I met him on Tuesday. There he was, sitting on the roof, waving to the swans. We went up, cause Mac had his own ladder. "Hi kids," says Mr. Sippee. Then he jumped off the roof. Down he fell. One storey. Two storeys. Three. Crash into a pile of broken marble.

Up gets Mr. Sippee. His head is cut in half and blood is dripping from his ears. But no matter. Out he pulls a needle and thread and gol durn but he sews his head right back...

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"Pull!" Erin directed us. We pulled.

"Argh, it's no use!" Ted lamented. "He's never getting unstuck."

Paul's head and chest might as well have been fastened to the tree by some kind of industrial-strength Krazy glue.

"Dammit," Erin said, winded. Even the three of us, with our combined strength, had no hope of dislodging our companion. "Whose idea was it to bring that stuff to our picnic, anyway?" she demanded, scowling at the wicker basket full of the white adhesive.

No one said anything. In truth, we'd all agreed, even Paul and Erin. We thought we needed it to keep...

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Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway.

Another time, in Cincinatti, a small wire-haired dog sprinted across a parking lot.

Last week, a gigantic monster on a small planetoid in the vicinity of Proxima Centuri ate a ham sandwich at a local monster-cafe.

On a nuclear sub beneath the ice of the Arctic, a captain of Hungarian descent vomited up the contents of his stomach, ingested the night before at a going-away party for a member of the crew.

On Broadway, a dancer in a leotard nervously practices for an upcoming performance, her...

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REALLY?? THIS is where the last 30have lead me?
A mere two weeks in to my 30-th year in this life and I look around.
Over the years I've asked myself many questions. Why? Why am I here? WHAT!!? What happened? In a relationship or with my business.But one question still stands out in my ever burning mind....REALLY?
Not so mush of a question, but rather, a statement of anxiety or disbelief. I have no desire to fail, but to succeed. No desire to just "make it", but to win!
I realized that there is more in my question than...

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We are falling, steady. We are falling a little bit. We are falling into a mass dream, an illusion that is as good as reality for now. We are falling so slowly, so gently that it feels like we are floating. We are together and we are kidding ourselves. But it is noble and good and we are falling. What reality is greater than this? What is it we are here for? We are this: we are weight: we are what makes it possible to fall.

We are falling and it is enough.

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She didn't look at him. She couldn't. He was standing there, and she didn't recognize him. Alex hurt Keri. Beyond hurt. Four years of sleeping together during summer and winter breaks from his Catholic college in Ohio HAD to mean something. Didn't they?

Not to him. Not anymore. He wasn't in it for the same reasons. Maybe he knew Keri loved Zak, too. Maybe Alex knew that deep inside Keri really loved them both (she hoped neither of them knew about each other, at least). Maybe he hoped that Zak would love her back so she wouldn't be so hurt...

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