Balanced on the line, he told her again, "Put it down!"

"Come on, then," she said, impishly.

"I can't. You know I can;''t cross the line. I'll have to go back."

"Why?"

It's just how it works. It's a liminal space. I'll explain if you put the book down and step away."

She looked baffled, then nervous. "I can't! It's stuck to me."

On no! "Then bring it to me. Quickly. Please."

"What's happening." Her voice was flat, lacking timbre. She was fading and I couldn't get to her. I only had seconds.

"Stay where you end up. Don't move....

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Prompt: Lola
“Who’s for another?” it came out as one word. Jack knew it and hid the knowledge with busy bustle. He wove towards the bar with a half-dozen empty glasses and the promise of help when he was served, but that detail was forgotten as Emily spoke in her soft voice.

“Does anybody here know the library?”

“Not since school,” was one answer. “Not old enough yet,” was another.” I have the internet at home,” said a third. I didn’t want Emily to lose interest in the face of such flippancy, so I tried to help.

“I go sometimes,”...

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I was home alone but i hear in the distance footsteps. The footsteps get louder every time I get farther. I was going up stairs as the footsteps follow and things shatter. All of a sudden the footsteps stop as i go down stairs i looked down and i see my shadow looking at me as it has something in his hands.

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I was home alone but i hear in the distance footsteps. The footsteps get louder every time I get farther. I was going up stairs as the footsteps follow and things shatter. All of a sudden the footsteps stop as i down stairs i looked down and i see my shadow looking at me as it has something in his hands.

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There was a young man but so much unlike a normal man he was. He was always put in solitude, never let neer others. There was a reason for this his, he was to dangerous his father would say to him. But he did not think this he did not think people would fear him. One day he had been walking through the courtyard and he spotted something in the corner, this was what he needed a tunnel. So the following night he crawled through and ended up in a town and smelled something so sweet.....blood.

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My life has always been a mess. First, my parents get into a big fight and are now divorced. Then I had no choice but to go live with my cruel mother. But life changed when she gave me that hug. When she made me feel loved. Ha, that rhymes! But it was when my college axeption came that my mom started to show affection towards me. It was uncomfortable, at first. But now it's part of what makes me move on from all those times she made me feel small, and unimportant to her. Now, that I'm married and...

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The visitor asked, "Can you write a story without a prompt?"

"I don't know," said the writer. "I've never tried."

"Really? You mean all those stories you wrote arose from something you'd seen or heard?"

"Or something I'd read. Tasted. Felt. Wondered about."

"And the novels? The poems? That terrible album you wrote and recorded?"

The writer smiled. "Yes, all of them. I need to have something to start from, some germ of a concept that I can build on. It's like the way a jazz musician riffs off a set theme. They start with what they have and make...

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