"Straighten your spine," whispered Jenny as she placed her hand on my back.

I loved this move, but could never do it right, even though I'd be practicing yoga on and off for about three years now. Something about it asked me to be too flexible, to vulnerable.

But I worked on flattening my back, all the same, and pulling my left shoulder back to deepen the stretch.

"Now, switch to the other side," said Jenny, in her steady voice, standing back at the front of the class.

I reached to the right this time and could hear the cracks...

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Well, I'll have a go. I said, That's fantastic, you wont regret it I promise, it really helped me. I thanked Chris, I felt a bit anxious about him being so enthusiastic. I hate letting people down, including myself but I wasn't bothered about that right this minute. I left Chris to his Hot Chocolate, which was probably Luke warm by now.

In a few minutes I was out on the street, a breezy day in June. I was looking for a quiet bench to sit down and write a few bits down in my notebook. I don't know if...

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She couldn't go outside very often, but when she did, it made her feel like the cancer wasn't as bad as it was the day before. It was summer; Lea had to go outside in her almost hospital-like pajamas; sanitary and sterile for her safety. Her mom sat on their apartment stoop as she watched Lea splash in the Manhattan fire hydrant. The trees looked dead around her still, and made her worry about Lea; her only daughter, at 12 she was already dying. Terminal illness doesn't warn you when it's taking over; it's not like the President declaring war...

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"Send it back," he said, his mouth shaped like a cruel stink.

"Why, whatsa matter with it?" I laughed.

"It's not a twist, that's a wedge. I didn't ask for a goddamn wedge. This is not an ice tea."

The busboy removed the drink, soon replacing it with another.

"Are you goddamn kidding me? This is the same thing. Do you know what a twist is?"

"Yeah," said the busboy, "it's what my fate has suddenly taken."

And he drank it down. Wedge and all.

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TWIST.
The World Is Still Turning.

It was months after the destruction. We knew it was coming so we headed to the shelters that our grandfather had dug, in the deep mountains. We went in and closed the doors, sealing out the world and sealing ourselves inside.

Eventually, cabin fever struck. We decided that living like rats, in a hole, was not acceptable. We had to know what was going on.

We opened the seals and felt the rush of truly, fresh air. Everything outside looked the same. We decided to venture out to see what was what.

Part way,...

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Sarah draped a second blanket over her shoulders and cupped her hands over her mouth. She huffed on her fingers in an attempt to warm some feeling back into her frozen digits. It had only been three days since the power had been cut off, but already her apartment felt as if it had never been heated. When she had woken that morning, she had felt as if she were lying on a block of ice instead of a bed, and upon finally slipping from beneath her inadequate duvet, she had been shocked to see that frost had formed on...

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i held it at arms length. my best friend told me it wasn't going to bite, that i should try it on. i responded by dropping it disgustedly on my dresser and hiding it under an old gum wrapper. "But it's jewelry!" she protested. i didn't care. it was from him. that lying, cheating snake of a guy who had once told me i was the only one. that was before i discovered that he'd told her that too. i opened it, then jumped back like a viper was going to leap out of it. all i saw was the...

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The disco ball was turning, shattering the darkness with screaming light, the dawn silence splintered by horns, a cannon firing a thick ball of needles. The huns are at the wall, threatening the structure with bass drum. We fire back with tight snare. We are on the move, churning into time, a polyester & corduroy hypno-wheel mesmerizing the gods of youth.

"There are no gods!" shouted Robbie Pinsker and deftly crossed his heavy skates, rolling backwards to the clarion call of the Village People.

Stephanie Friedman invited the whole class to her party at the roller rink. I arrived sheepishly....

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I remember when it started. We were playing cards, as we had done for years. It's a a simple way to pass the time when visiting your grandparents in the country. The comfort in the shuffling by sturdy hands. Methodical. Solid. Dependable.

"I don't seem to remember how the game starts. Refresh my memory."

Confusion was set deep in those smiling brown eyes.

We made it through that game, but it was the last game. Forgotten card game rules progressed into forgetting how to car and confusion over items.

I visit her in the nursing home, wishing I could pull...

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The disco ball turned on its dusty axis, shining pixels of glitter light across their worn faces and twinkling in their liquid eyes. Eyes that darted to the front door when someone walked through. This hotel bar was the opposite of pretension, the only tension coming from the anticipation of meeting someone to make the night less lonely.

He came in for a beer--procrastinating to book his hotel for a corporate conference plus budget cuts at work meant he had a room at a low budget hotel. All the eyes followed him as he took a spot at the bar....

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