ANONYMOUS CONFESSION. I am a car thief. This photo shows just one of the cars I stole last night. I am not just an ordinary thief. I only steal for really interesting people who do extraordinary things with them. It is a big secret but I think it is time to get a few things off my chest. I can't keep this to myself anymore as it is getting dangerous for me. I know 'they' are making plans to get rid of me as I know too much, it's just a question of when.

I have an escape route. I...

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The year was 1986. I was traveling through the American South with a spaniel I had picked up along the way who answered to the name "Kenneth".

My goal was to reach Little Rock, Arkansas in order to see the William Jefferson Clinton Presidential Library and Museum. Unfortunately, I had committed a great error and had greatly misjudged, as he would not even be elected for another six years.

Whoops.

While the spaniel who responded to the name "Kenneth" almost certainly knew that I was too early, he remained mute. In all the many weeks we spent together, he only...

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The car stalled. The roads were half washed out and the rain pounded like a blacksmith's hammer on the hood. The storms began a few days ago, but before that it had been a dry summer. After the first downpour, people started smiling and stopped fanning their faces. Life strained under the drops in vegetable and flower gardens.

After the first whole nights of dark heavy clouds, the constant grumble of thunder, people were still trying to be positive. Good for the forests, dry as tinder, they'd say. The river was too low anyway.

After a week and flooded basements,...

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Absent. The perfect word to describe the situation.

Paul and Maria Strickland sat at their kitchen table eating breakfast, as they did every day. Forks scraped against plates as they lifted their scrambled eggs to their mouths, chewed, swallowed. All in silence. They'd been married for twenty years, eating in silence together for fifteen. Eating in silence was the only thing they ever did together anymore, except take care of their son, Mark.

The boy watched them from the den, where he'd taken to eating alone as he watched TV, a tray attached to the armrests of his black Quickie...

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Wait ... for a green-clad man. He will come to you either at dusk or at dawn if you stand by this gate. When he comes, you must say to him, "I see, they have dammed the brook below Piper's copse." He will stop and fill his pipe and make small talk with you about this and that. Speak freely and let him know of your grief. Tell him how your crops have failed these last three years for want of rain or too much of it and how sick your children are. He will listen to you quietly and...

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Never before had he witnessed such decadence. In every direction he sees strangers from a planet he has not lived on. They do not share his world. Humongous flashing screens paint the slopes of this urban valley with a grotesque LCD glow, electrifying the smoggy night and blotting out constellations he was accustomed to observing. A foreign land indeed.

They had told him about these men, and their women and children, of their social clubs and religious events and twenty-four-hours-a-day informational overload. He had watched the training videos explaining how to communicate in their language, how to mimic their gestures...

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Theo had had ENOUGH. Ever since he had married Julia, it had been vegan this and free range that. If he had to choke down one more organic graham cracker, he would slit his wrists. It wasn't Julia's fault; it was her mother's. That old witch had insisted on a completely organic, 60s hippie diet, and had dragged the whole family on board. Her husband, his father-in-law, had started sneaking bacon sandwiches when she went to play bingo., Theo, however, had no such break from the Diet from the Black Lagoon.Julia would feel so guilty if they snuck around behind...

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The problem is she was no hero; ready to cry, trouble breathing, and too many conjugations racing through her head to put anything concrete on the exam. She'd tried putting earplugs in to cut out distracting white noise in the room, but they only made it awkward when the teacher leaned down and said something.

"ca va?"

could she see the fear in her student's eyes? Smell the anxiety attack waiting to come out?

The girl hesitated, stumbled through some sounds, but settled on,

"yeah."

15 minutes passed, the exam wasn't complete when turned in.

Then I dropped out of...

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"I think there's a problem with the design!" Clair blurted. The table of nerdy glasses and hazy schematics looked up one by one.
Burt suddenly took her by the arm, turning her slightly but firmly. "We're hours away from the prototype run and you think there's something we haven't considered?"
"It's the idea in general. If the particle resonance is what we think it is then why are we trying to counter the harmonics? I mean--what could that do to the very fabric--"

Burt collapses to a singularity point, everything in the room suddenly expanding at the edges and warping...

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The conversation lasted two words. Alien Origin.

The scientist was shot in the head after his pronouncement. The trail brought to a halt. The military chief hearing the evidence verified, used his own pistol and was returning it to his pocket and issuing orders for the body to be removed when he received a very unexpected call.

His wife. She knew not to ever call him at work. But from the tone of her voice after she had finally been put through, something was seriously wrong at home.

Ordinarily anything to do with his work, was the priority. But not...

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