I was walking to grandma's when I spotted the yellow box with a question mark on it. I liked it so much that I leaned against it and stuck a little red thing in my chest. Unfortunately, the little red thing was poisonous and I died. My eyeballs fell out and my skin ripped open and I bled everywhere. Then my body shrunk so that I looked like a voodoo doll. I am still standing against the yellow box with a question mark on it.

bruno went to Kentucky Fried Chicken to buy mashed potatoes and figs. He only had...

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'Vanquished. V-A-N-Q-U-I-S-H-E-D. Vanquished." Poppy smiled, proudly, scanning the audience for her parents. There was her mother, beaming at her. Camera in hand, ready to capture every last moment of the Spelling Bee. Her mother was so embarassing, thought Poppy, but at least she cared. Her eyes flickered across the room, until they settled on her father. As usual, he was standing at the back, his eyes glued ot his Blackberry. Typical. at least he was here, usually he missed every dance competition, every spelling Bee, every sports day. He wasn;t really there, though. His body might be standing there, but...

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I had a dream the other night. We were sitting alone in our rooms, all of us, every single one, when suddenly —

The walls just fell away. There was no sound, no pyrotechnics; with a quiet resignation, all the matter in the world, except for our warm, breathing bodies, fell down into the void, leaving us floating purposelessly, naked.

And we all looked at each other, as the psychic frameworks that we etched into the streets, into our homes – our routines, our beaten paths, all the conventions that existed not in the world, but in the world as...

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We wrote a song for the silver trees. The streetlamps gathered underneath the bridge to hear us. Our band played. Others milled. The night was soft. The river was a metronome.

We wrote a song for the silver trees.

Sylvia wasn't sure she should have been there, never higher than 3rd chair in the symphony, but the viola was for her and her alone. I loved it when she tilted her neck just so. The chains glinting silver in the groaning of the streetlamps.

This was a song for her neck.

We wrote it in a hurry, gathering musicians out...

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It approached. The deadline was upon him. There was no more time, no more stalling, no more pleading and simply no more giving. It was time, a harsh fate was to be met. Failure on all accounts, many unsuccessful attempts, it was not good enough. Their eyes met, tears sprang to hers and determination hardened his jaw. There was no way out, this was it. They would not see him cry. They would not see him ground down. He raised his hand and placed it on the window that separated them. She did the same. They had each said all...

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"They won't be of any help."
"Why? Did they not see anything?"
"I think they saw too much."

The man in the white coat was right. That was what had happened. We had all seen too much. Too much of the evil that had passed under the sky that night. We had born witness to horrors that no human tongue can describe. And by the way that the animals had fallen silent, not even they knew how to communicate what had happened.
We all sat in silence, those of us cursed to survive. It was by group consensus, unspoken as...

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Snitches Die Heroically, the Rest Burn in Hell

October 2002. As the flames ripped apart the body of a five year old girl, burning her skin into a mass of molten cellular plastic, boiling the red and white blood cells that traversed her barely formed veins, charring her fragile, yet to be developed bones, and exterminating the intelligence, wit, and beauty of a child who never had the chance to be; our generation looked on and cheered. While the firefighters rushed to squelch the blaze and douse the embers of dying justice, we arrogantly proclaimed the righteousness of this row-home...

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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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In the harsh twilight, he knelt and dug.

In the bottom of the phoenix-grave, he spread the spores that would feed on and support the beginnings 0f all life.

In the sharp, glassy soil, he placed the seeds of a new planet.

In the unmeasured, empty space of an hour, he changed the course of the universe.

In the flat gray expanse of weathered silicates, three thousand potatoes rested.

In the dead methane-carbon dioxide atmosphere, the harsh actinic sun slanted down, undimmed by ozone.

In the cool, moist air of his time machine, he left the dawn of the world,...

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Deluxe hotel, the brochure said. Apartment sized-rooms. You get your own little kitchen and living room and bedroom. A slightly smaller, more luxurious, home away from home.

The brochure didn't say anything about being woken up in the middle of the night by panicked pounding on the door.

I swung my feet over the side, and moved over the thick carpet to the door. I rubbed the sleep away from one eye and then put it to the spyhole. The pounding had stopped and I saw her, small and naked and covered in streaking blood. She slid slowly down the...

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