It was a lovely sunny morning. The sun was shining, the clouds looked fine and proud, and I was in an amazing mood. It was valentines day. I couldn't wait to see my boyfriend. Life couldn't be better.

As I got ready, I had a slight doubt in my mind. He's really forgetful. What if he forgets? I guess we're 'boutta. find out. I wait 'till he picks me up. I wait, and wait, and wait. When is he coming? Has he forgotten?

Suddenly, a large truck full of roses gets dropped off at my house. Are these for me?...

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My heart sank. The sound of a leaf crunched behind me. I turn my neck in fear. There I see it. My demise. Lurking in the shadows of Shayne Park. Drool bungee jumps out of its vicious mouth as it snarls at me. I feel its heat breathing in my heart. Piercing eyes stare into my soul freezing me in my tracks. The tan-skinned coyote puffed its chest and readied itself for attack. Suddenly I hear a loud bang, followed quickly by a squeal. I look behind me and see the coyote on the flor

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My mother in law kept a speedy pace behind me, screeching my name as I raced toward the hot dog stand. "THEO!" "THEO, YOU COME BACK HERE NOW!"I was full of adrenaline as I ran away from her at full speed now. I swiftly missed her grasp for my tee shirt as she made the attempt to grab hold of me.

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Suddenly everything was silent, at the death at night as the moon shined upon me. I stroll through the streets peacefully exploring the beautiful scenery of London as suddenly I hear a loud screech "OOO" there he was high up in the tree looking over me, his face focused aggressively over me as he stares me down from a distance. I freeze as a cold breeze brushes against my skin a sharp shiver runs down my spine in fear. My heart began to bet rapidly as i saw him ready to prounce, i take off bolting at full speed as...

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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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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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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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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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