The contours of her form were clear under the light shining through my window. She was laying there nude on my couch as I drew her. My eyes, flicking back and forth from the paper to her. My hand, gliding wildly across the paper in motions similar to a snake whipping it's way across a desert. I had asked her to model for me. Not because I have a crush on her. Not because I'm trying to date her. But because her body is so gorgeous. It flows with every move she makes, twisting and bending and flowing. She lays...

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"Helluva storm, Joe," I say.

"Ayup," he says shakily, gazing out into the fog. His uniform is wet through and he's a-startin' to tremble. It won't be long before he can't hold on to the beam no more.

"Shore wish you ain't cut the riggin' there, Bob," says Dave. He's on the end, Dave is, hangin' tight to the canvas. A good gust o' wind gonna sweep him away.

"Oh yeah, everythin' be my fault," I complain. How was I to know? You tell me that. How was I to know the riggin' be the on'y way down?

"Too bad...

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i was playing with me mate cheeseball the fat slob and all of a sudden he came on my face. Peanut butter is chunky, you're fat

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Fish meant for market was found dumped in a bin outside the school. The mother believed the rotting smell would disguise her hidden bundle beneath. Her post-birth addled brain forgetting only papers were supposed to be in that container and what she tried to dispose would be eventually found.

Margarita wasn't a bad person. She did what she thought best at the time. Took her baby to the church and left her on the steps timing so the priest would find it. The bloody towels, rags, her own clothing stuffed below the fish. She kept the umbilical cord and placenta....

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She could tell I was faking it. After twenty years of marriage, she could read my thoughts like a book. She spoke to me with her eyes and, although she was silent, I heard everything.
"What's wrong? Why won't you talk to me?" Her green eyes shone as she "spoke." I looked down and my eyes fell on my wedding band. How much longer would this last? I knew what I had done. I had lied to her. A marriage can't stand on lies - I know that.
She looked at me again and reached for my hand. I squeezed...

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I jumped clear out of my skin, I did. Well, I wasn't es'pectin' him to come creepin' up behind me all quiet-like! Nearly gave me a heart attack, I warrant. It's like I always said; that boy's gonna get his self in a heap a trouble if he don't shape up an' learn his self some manners. Come girl! What's got you all google-eyed out the window? OOooohhh no. No, no. It just ain't right; you givin' him so much of the good Lord's precious day as you do. Come away from that window now, girl. That's not a good...

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She rolled onto her side, the duvet rustling, pulled back to reveal a slender leg, almost too slender for a young woman of 24. Her eyes opened slowly. The expression on her blank, disinterested face was a striking contrast to the expectant face of the girl kneeling next to the bed. The little girl clasped the woman's hand in both of hers and shook. Pulling away, the young woman disappeared back under the covers.
"Mommy! Mommy, wake up today, okay?" Pleas were answered with silence. There would be no waking up that day.

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The dream had been wonderful, yet it would never be real.The first thing I did was tweet about it; hundreds of retweets showed I'd hit a nerve. Me, Christine, a twitter phenomenon. And all because I shared my dream (nightmare? No. Dream) of an ex-girlfriend becoming infected during the zombie apocalypse. Undead everywhere, and amongst them the bitch, at last, letting me have the final word.

Wish fulfillment with a chain saw, definitely severing our relationship. It had gone to her head. You had to hand it to her. Even with the plague, I still (for a moment) thought about...

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There's somebody standing in the corner of my room. That's what she told me most days and as normal, I ignored her. I presumed she was talking about her reflection who she believed another person, a friend. Dementia steals the life force. She was no longer the woman I knew anymore, just a small petulant child to take care of. One that could look sweet and innocent but could take a knife to me if she fancied. She spent all day in her bedroom talking to the mirror, packing and unpacking strange old suitcases, oblivious to the fact she was...

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The ghost girls kept appearing on the photographs. Even on the really old one of my grandfather.

I wasn't that concerned, it was bound to be an effect of those new pills from the doctor. The leaflet had a million and one side effects including hallucinations.

On my seventy first birthday all the family were round my house and I was just blowing out the candles on the three level chocolate cake when there was a pounding on the door.

Police.

They took me into the kitchen and closed the door. Sparing the rest of the family the embarasssment of...

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