In order to choose her shoes, Chloe consulted her "Big Book 'o Footwear" every morning while getting ready. Whenever she bought a new pair of shoes, she'd put them on and snap a Polaroid of her feet so she could get a decent idea of how she'd look in them without actually having to try them on. Her fiancee thought this was ridiculous, but she thought it was quite a time-saver. Plus, he had no room to criticize--he often brushed his teeth while peeing.

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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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A chicken tried to cross the road
Upon which fate had last bestowed
A fetid mess of flesh and gore
From those who tried to cross before

The other side was just in reach
When road and fate allied to teach
The chicken's desperate, futile cause
Was ended by a couple cars

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OK. OK then. That's it? Really? Just- no. No. Honestly. The goal is to steal dinner? Come on now. I, the man who eats cats, can do a lot better than that. So much better. It's not like- I don't know- I'm pressed for a job or anything. No, not at all. Of course not. Why would I be? I'm the Cat-Eater. Of course I haven't been stuck on alley cats for the past few months- all skin and bones- far from the days where I ate the cats of the Tsars. They had respected me. You know what? I'm...

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She stood there, covered in nothing but a crimson gown, shivering against the cold.
The rain fell down in a perfect arc around her, as the doorway spared her from the worst of the elements.

Glancing out, she caught my eye, and there was only one thing to do.

Or so I thought, but as I crossed the road, running to escape the never-ending sheetm with my coat over my head, I failed to see the bike that was heading, at speed, towards me.

A scream, a crumpling of flesh and metal and a release of the reason I crossed...

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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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He rain into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet.
"What happened to you?" I asked
"We gotta go now! There's no time to waste!"
"Jack, what are you talking about? Are you being chased by some random stranger to be killed or something?"
"Yes, Kary. That is exactly what's happening! Now we need to go, NOW!!!"
I ran to my room and filled a back pack with clothes when I hear my door explode open. I rush out to what happened and see my brother laying on the ground with a stranger pointing a gun at...

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"I feel boxed in," she said.

"I'm sorry?" he replied, not quite understanding.

"Well, the basic thing is this: the image is quite boring, and the color scheme is obnoxious, a weird, misguided attempt at the painterly surrealism that Richard Linklater's Waking Life first presented in film. Add to that two gigantic butterflies, and the whole thing just falls apart. But despite the silliness of the painting, however, there's really no room for absurdity. Characters can't wave pistols around or smoke cigars or get hit in the forehead with boards. I'm boxed in. I have nowhere to go. It's too...

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In the beginning, there were no gods.

A human boy named Micah, not yet a man, was the first to make the discovery that if the Earth existed, then there must be a heaven; a divine source, a metaphysical origin of the crude, material plane that we inhabit. And so, partly by accident, and partly by perseverance, he discovered the doorway to heaven.

He went through it without a second thought. His other human peers had always mocked him for being too short, too weak, too strange. His family ignored him. He had the time to uncover the doorway because...

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I slowly push myself up from the place I lay crumpled on the ground. My head is throbbing and I can't quite think of why I'm here. Or where here is. I check myself over. There is a little blood seeping from a cut on my head but everything seems to be in order so I do the only thing I can think of to do. I walk. I walk and walk until my legs are sore but still nothing in this town seems familiar. I sink to my knees against the brick wall of a bakery and allow myself...

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