This sludgy finger of water curling around the land. A mucky smile that hides whatever you slip inside of it. The lake never tells.

So I'm pleased you chose this place to meet, my dear. You have solved a riddle I've kept hidden behind my own smile. Come closer for a moment so I can see your face in the moon. Let's walk down to the water's edge and peer deep into eternity.

I didn't want to meet you tonight. My plan was as unsettled as a river. But you pinched it off into something definable, and I feel calmer...

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The results were in: she had earned "third runner up" honours.

"Top five ain't bad!" Jeff said encouragingly.

"It's four spots worse than good," Melanie grumbled. "I don't want to be 'not bad'; I want to win something! I want to be recognized!"

Jeff sighed. "I recognize you," he reassured her. "I recognize you more than anything else, or anyONE else, in the whole world. Why do you think I married you?"

"Chocolate trifle," she sniffed.

"Well..." he grinned. "Ok. You got me. I married you for your chocolate trifle. But AFTER the trifle, you're the most important thing in...

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

Twice, in Singapore, she sat by a fountain.

Three times, in Kuala Lumpur, at three different locations, she waited by Banyan trees.

She was waiting. Always waiting.

She was waiting for me.

She didn't know that I knew that she was waiting for me, but enough money, in the right pockets, can keep me out of trouble. *Has* kept me out of trouble for the past four years. Kept me out of her hands. Out of the hands of the people who wanted to find me....

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She'd have preferred the electric chair. She'd have preferred anything really, hanging, lethal injection, even one of those weird medieval punishments like hang, draw and quartering. Anything to get her out of this tedium.

The irony was that she'd chosen this. Chosen to run, the alternative being prison or worse. But wasn't she already in prison? Stuck in this dark, damp room, determined to live out the rest of her days without ever seeing the sun. Actually, it was probably worse than prison. At least in prison there were other prisoners to talk to. Here the only human contact she...

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We'd been here once before. Staring through tiny holes on a weird-shaped box staring down at the bustling city below us. This time is different. This time he tells me he's ending it. No, not with me, with his fiance of merely two months who he works with at a dive bar down South. Naturally, I thought his engagement the week of my wedding was ludicrous to begin with. A Sapphire instead of a diamond on the hand of a girl with striped purple hair. She wasn't his type.

I gave my condolences, I guess that's the right word, I...

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She was a regular victim, the kind of person who flinched when she heard a loud noise, ducked when she passed beneath an airborne bird, stepped sideways in order to avoid each time she happened to pass by a pedestrian, puddle or crack. She looked for and expected (and here I'm talking about the worst) in everything. Forget good and better, forget fortuitous, forget fate being in your favour and good fortune... As far as she was concerned, it was always cloudy outside and it rained constantly. In her model of the world life was hard, living was tough, and...

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The fields were parched. There was no water. Where was the rain, she wondered as she stared across the cracked land. There were clouds rolling in from the east but they brought no hope of rain. The stream that used to run through here had been clear and sweet, she remembered. Sighing, she turned from the depressing sight and got back to preparing the evening meal. Jim and the boys would be home soon and they would be hungry after a long day in the fields.
"I can help you." A small voice said.
She jumped and looked around in...

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She was a goddess.

Her sacrifices were mostly time; her father was procrastination, and through him most of her sacrifices were received. Her temple was the internet, the pub, every conversation which began "I read somewhere - ", or "I saw the other day - ", or "Am I right in thinking - "

Quizzes were her festivals. Celebrations of (arguably) useless knowledge. The glory of simply knowing something, with no comprehension of whether it was to be useful or not, the pleasure based in facts.

She was worshipped frequently, albeit unbeknownst to most.

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So. Where do I go from here? He's left me. High and pregnantly dry. Where's a Wal-Mart. No. Kidding,. I saw that dumb movie. Really, jump through a window? Keep track of what I use? I'd rather not, if it's all the same with you.
I'm not, if you are wondering, intending to keep this kid. I'm not one of those stupid girls who don't know they're knocked up, the ones that scream for days in a bathroom before the thing drops into a toilet.
They'll help me get rid of it. Someone will. Some do gooder will help me...

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Giving in wasn't an option.

He/She

hadnt considered the consequences of the experiment. Quantum Flux theory was such a new area, although 

he'd always /she'd never

been interested in it 

ever since he / when she

was a child

Or maybe/ but actually

it was later, 
much later that

 he'd / she'd

come to the field. Now the latest test apparatus had performed 

well he / strangely she

had begun to have doubts.

Maybe it was the results or maybe

 he was tired / she was overreacting

but 

hed / she'd

noticed strange things happening. A sense of deja vu? Something wasn't right. Like...

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