Shit.

Her hat just blew off in the wind. Well, it wasn't so much wind as the fact that she stuck her head out the car window to get a better look at the flashing lights.

The cops probably wouldn't be too happy if they stopped to retrieve it. Another one lost.

It was her Mariner's baseball hat, the one that shielded her from the torrential rain in Singapore; the one that bleached to a dull slate gray from the sun in New Mexico; the one that she wore whenever the Mariners ended up losing. It wasn't so much a...

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Water. I wish I were drowning in it now. That my car veered into the canal while I was driving home. Somewhere I shouldn't have been. A blue-house, now painted tan, that I've visited 100 times. A house where I rang the doorbell, felt stupid there was no answer, and drove home. On the way, I turned into an oncoming lane by complete accident... Cars beeped, and luckily no one was hurt. Startled, I made a U-Turn, and headed home. I wished there was a thunder storm, a hail storm, something to cover my windshield to make my car just...

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"Wait, let me send a pic...." Darren closed one eye as he aimed his phone and snapped a picture, capturing the female figure in three quarter view, just before the turning stage she stood on spun her slowly away.

He gazed at the picture, ran his thumb over the screen, before attaching it to the a text and sending it. The female figure had turned back around and he gnawed on his lips as he briefly met eyes with her. They were glossier than one would be used to, the whites would glitter, something in the plastic, or enamel or...

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Holographic women are all the rage. Easier than humans to be around. No talking back or gorging on chocolates to ruin their figures.

Only costs a thousand a minute, for a rich guy like me it's nothing. Won't be long before the price will be cheap so everyone will have them.

Dating agencies will be redundant as everyone will have their own virtual mate, eager to please. With the headgear it feels like you are with a real live woman.

Today I had a shock. Mirabelle somehow changed into a man, mistake in the software I guess, but until much...

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Majestic words like maelstrom, preponderance, warbling swirl through my creative whirlpool, pulling in pieces of conversation, tail-ends of admonitions, the lilt of swearing. I live by the calendar, fitting my days into the squares, x'ing the boxes at midnight.

Friday is the wave that crashed but hasn't withdrawn to the sea. I'll compose this in the spiked surf.

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Being punched in the face for the first time is always a shock. Even with the gloves, it still hurts, and that mouth guard, well, sometimes it does mor harm than good.

I staggered against the rails and spit into the bucket, feeling around with my tongue. Are my teeth in tact? Yes.

"You out, Sam?" Called the ref.

"No!" I yell, adjusting my bandana and flying towards my opponent again. For a little thing, she is surprisingly strong and fast. She lands an uppercut and swift solar plexus blow that leaves me winded before plowing me over.

She pulls...

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Pointing skyward, his finger aflame.

"Can you come here a minute?"

Trying to catch the attention of surf but drawing only seagulls, which landed on his fingertip and looked around stupidly in the low sky of November.

My whole life is a finger on fire, and wrong things coming to help. A man wearing a hat. Some flotsam. A ship in the dead of night, a drunken captain

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Black and white. I couldn't believe Dad had done it again.

I know I'm lucky, I do. You can say I'm spoiled if you like, but it doesn't matter - I'd asked for ONE THING this Christmas, and it was colour.

I looked up at my father, tried to fake a smile, and said 'Thanks'. As soon as he turned away, I rolled my eyes, and unwrapped my next present.

A sweater. Great. I wondered what colour it was - if I went out wearing this and one of my friends actually GOT what she asked for and could see...

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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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"Ugh," Shiloh said, rolling her eyes over the steaming cup of coffee that she had been holding for the last twenty minutes.

Her boyfriend Micah looked across the table and couldn't help but let out a very quiet laugh. "What?" he asked, still laughing as he did.

"Don't what me," she replied softly, shaking her head as she took a very long sip of her still piping hot coffee. "Don't, Micah. You know exactly what that ugh was for."

After Micah had graduated from university with a degree in chemical engineering, he had convinced himself that he didn't want a...

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