f18000. that was what he was being paid for murder. She'd seen to much. She was the key to blowing the case wide open. He scanned the crowded mall, looking for the face in the photo. He spotted it, and reeled back in surprise. She was just a teenager, barely old enough to drive. He pulled himself together, then put the newly loaded gun back in his waistband. He tracked the victim out of the mall and into the parking lot. She was completely oblivious, laughing and talking with her friends. She said good bye and made her way across...

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Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. She was the last surviving member of the Yoshi Crew, a band who had until recently been quite the rage amongst the in-crowd of Berlin. Her devil-may-care attitude and foul mouth had won her a place in the hearts and minds of Berlin's anti-establishment, anti-casual, anti-everything crowd. In Beijing, things had gone more than a little wrong. Mechmal, the under-fed, over-exaggerated singer had found them a gig at a nightclub in the centre of Beijing's equivalent of Soho as they worked their way around the world....

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It was the fall that surprised me the most.

The winter, she was fine. Spring, slowly getting sick, Summer, even sicker.

In fall, she fully recovered from stage 3 liver cancer. There was someone to thank. God or someone.

It could have been the praying, or just hoping we didn't lose her. She was only 7. 7-year-olds aren't supposed to just die from liver cancer. Ella's better now, though. It's easy to believe in something when a dying child makes a full recovery from something so evil as that.

So God, or someone, thank you. It was God or someone...

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The idea that bad luck happens when a black cat crosses your path is completely ridiculous. Maybe if the creature trips you up while you walk, but certainly not in any superstitious way. There are no gods or demons that control our destiny, and carrying a packet of salt to throw over your shoulder as a ward against bad luck is absurd.

Yes, yes, that kitten is adorable. No, I don't want to pet her.

However, didn't we pass a trashcan back there? I did take too many salt packets for my fries. I'll just toss out the extras.

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My grandma had this incredible house. Like one of the ones you see in movies. Like, this is going to be a really crazy example, but did you ever see "The Tigger Movie"? Like Winnie the Pooh. There's this part where they're in the attic and I always remember wishing we had an attic with all that cool old stuff to explore in our house. Then I found Grandma's attic and I knew I'd hit something special! There was actually a stand-up mirror covered in a sheet and a few large trunks full of old clothes! So great.

I think...

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It started as a joke.

Ralph was one of the few people at the camp who had a vehicle, who had a vehicle that was heavy enough to roll through the massive amounts of snow that often fell here over the course of an entire winter, and whose vehicle was actually fit enough to start on a cold morning.

Sally had a sled. She had a sled and a length of rope, and one day thought that it would be amusing to tie the length of rope to Ralph's bumper and let Ralph take her for a ride. Though Ralph...

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An aura surrounded her.

He couldn't describe it, couldn't explain it, couldn't put it into words. It was beauty.

She raised her hands, opened her mouth, flexed her diaphragm, and completely, irrevocably drew him into herself.

Her song permeated him, and the light that bounced off of her transformed his eyes into bodiless, empty receptors: everything else faded, his body, his chair, his table. There was only the Vision.

Then the song ended, and he was left floating in the smooth, absent, come-down buzz of the empty amplifiers.

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The lamp wouldn't turn on. That was really the least of his problems. It meant the electricity had finally been turned off. So had the water, the cable, and the gas. At least they had waited until the spring. It was warm enough to not risk freezing that night.

Jacob wondered through his house, filled with useless possessions. He touched the television and the fridge as he walked by them, exiting the house and into the beautiful April morning.

The birds were chirping and a steady drone of cars racing down the highway filled his ears. He took a deep...

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I wish I had some pop. Not just regular pop though. A&W Rootbeer. Yeah, that would be amazing right now. But then again I think that stuff has some addictive narcotics in it. They put some crazy foreign mouse hair crushed up with lima beans and introduce it to the mixture before brewing. And then we drink it. Drink it all up and it fizzes as it goes down our throats and into our tummy's. And then it goes through our intestines and filtered into our bladder where it has a big fizz party! But that's when the lima beans...

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The two of them sat there, staring at their glasses. They each had their of Johnny Walker, black for one, red for the other.

The bar tender walked by, they almost simultaneously motioned toward their glasses.

The pour seemed slow, but they paid no attention to it. Garbed in black suits, with white shirts and black ties, they hunched over their vessels, as if protecting the precious liquid from some evil darkness.

"I just can't wrap my head around it, Gabriel."

"I know Joseph."

"I mean, today was one of those days you read about, you watch in movies, man."...

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