Contemptlation of the one. The flame at the center of life. Beginning and end. No beginning, no end.

It's my birfday.

The children huddled around the flame, discussing what was to be done. One suggested that the only possible route was violence, the violence of the oppressed masses against their oppressor. Another suggested that they might take more subtle means of gaining control of the classroom, gain partisans. The teacher came in, and they blew out the candle, acting as though nothing had happened.

Every child around the cake wished that it was his birthday, that he could be the...

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It was the leaded glass crystal, fluted sides, a stem as delicate as a lily. She filled it halfway, she didn't want to be greedy.
"Is that all you're having?" Her mother had just poured her glass up to the rim and was now walking awkwardly across the room, trying not to spill it.
"I like the way it looks in the glass."
Her mother sat down on the couch and slurped. "That's why I like these glasses. They look good no matter what you put in them."
She paused behind the couch, behind her mother, and took a sip....

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I lost my grip on the wheel. It had happened before, but it wasn't nearly as embarrassing as now. I had just left P.E. with a friend of mine, rolling up the steep hill from the gym toward the vocational building. As usual, I made my slow way up that hill, my forearms and biceps flexing as I pushed my wheelchair, struggling but too proud to ask for help.

Then, again as usual, I approached the next decline, a cement hill with a white awning over it. With a grin, I pushed down and let go. As usual. But, then...

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We've heard of monkeys. All kinds of monkeys. We've heard that we're most closely genetically related to bonobos, we've heard about the flying monkeys of Oz, but what we certainly haven't heard enough about is the infamous "Green Monkeys of Bainsville." You're wondering, what are these fascinating creatures, and where do they originate? Well, if you don't know where Bainsville is...you probably never will. It's tiny. It's known for little else than it's rest stop, although it should be known for it's green monkeys. These devilish little creatures love nothing more than getting up to good old fashioned South Glengarry...

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Absent. Gone gone gone, baby gone. She's gone again. She's away. She's fled, she's left the scene. She's vanished. You want to call the cops, hire a bounty hunter, marshal the town, grab the pitchforks, light the torches, whatever it takes, to drag her back. You would do so much, you know you would.

It's the future you can't get a hold of. You know the past and you want to scratch the eyes out of the present, but you don't want to see what's ahead. Just bring her home. This is all. Anything now, you'll do anything. Come back....

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The letter was an important one. The boy knew that much. His mother didn't send much correspondence. In fact, she had to explain where the mailbox was at first. The boy had never been sent there. He had merely observed it in his daily comings and goings, placing no more significance on it than on the tree down the street from it or the fence alongside it.

His mother patiently explained where to find the mailbox and exactly what to do to ensure the letter was delivered. He clutched the letter close to his heart as he walked down the...

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Wine. The only way I can escape. The bitter taste of beer and harsh sting of liquour, far too much for me to handle. So I drink wine.
The man has been watching me for a while now. The one with no face. There names for him on the internet, there are stories, and jokes.
But there are few believers.
So I keep to myself. When I'm not drinking wine, I search for answers, but that often makes things worse. The more I read, the more real it seems, although to everyone else he is just a story.
I thought...

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The bully grabbed me and Billy by the collar. He started dragging us in the direction of what looked like a soccer goal, but had strange metal bars around it. It seemed as if there was already someone in there.

"Get in there, Squirts!" Chase growled. He kicked us in the goal like a soccer ball, except we didn't score him any points.
"So you're here too, I see. What did you do to him?" The strange girl said. "My name is Lara. I didn't give Chase my money when he asked. I should've just given it to him." She...

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Birds. I hate badminton. Eye-hand coordination was never my strength.
"You'll have fun," Fanny told me.
I hate how the little birdies fall apart if you step on them. Which I always do. They're easier to miss, fallen in the long grass like puffs of dandelions.
"Tell her to play," Fanny told her brother. We avoided eye contact. Like we always did when she was around. Our secret.
"You'll have fun," he said, not looking at me. "I'll let you win."
I didn't want to beat anybody, least of all him. I wanted to fold him in my arms, cradle...

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"Avery," she said, eyes flashing, "Avery, Avery."

I held the snake in my hands. "I need to take care of it. It's lonely."

"Animals belong in the outdoors, not in kindergarten."

"Then I belong in the outdoors, too!"

"Avery, if you continue this for one moment longer –"

"Don't worry," I whispered, almost to myself. "Flora will get you. Flora will get you."

She came a few minutes later, rage flickering on and off in her pale face. "What's all this?"

Miss Duncan glared. "Your sister brought a snake into a kindergarten classroom."

"What the bloody –"

"Flora!" I yelped....

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