I jumped.

I know it was dumb but at the time I didn't really think I had any other choice. Besides, it's not like I really thought about it. I just did it. Just took that leap. Stepped off the edge without looking down first. He was coming after me and my instinct took over and I am now lying in the bed that I made.

Of course I had the choice of socking that guy at the bar, the one who chased me, the one weighing about 300 pounds and all of that muscle. Of course I could have...

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The birds had not come in last night and now they would be lost.

Common birds! She spat twirling a small gold spoon in her coffee clattering nervously on the edge of the doll like cup.

So long years of sorrow, so long back breaking toil. The training, the binding of tiny claws the midnight dropper feedings. All of it for nothing. Now they would peck at trash and pretend to get excited when they heard the fog horns of a garbage trawl.

Why do I bother? She picked a tiny scar at the corner of her mouth and drank...

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I woke up hung over, my head throbbing. It felt like mini-jackhammers were destroying my frontal lobe, something I am sure the Scotch took care of last night.

The room was unfamiliar, but I had seen it plenty of times laid out in some IKEA or Sears catalog. I was on the bed with an Oak, maybe Maple, night-stand next to it. The room smelled, not good or bad, just different from my bedroom. Clothes covered the floor in front of the closet, where I suddenly saw my pants. A desperate roll to my side brought back the mini-jackhammers.

The...

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"Tis a penny," said he, and bent to retrieve the copper coin from the sidewalk. Holding it between gloved finger and thumb, he inspected the date with a squinting eye and dropped it into his vest pocket.

"Aye, twy twirrly twee, a penny's enough fer you an' me," he sang and performed a pirouette for the passerby.

A woman, richly attired and ambling along with an aristocratic gate, stopped to consider the man as he continued to spin in circles. A member of the upper crust, she lacked that innate mechanism, honed by the lower classes, which steered one away...

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The man in the yellow shirt entered the elevator and pressed the lowest button, which was marked 'B3'. The light next to the word 'DOWN' lit up, and down we went.

"Down?" I exclaimed in confusion. "I don't want to go down. I want to go up. I pressed 31. Why is the elevator obeying you and not me? I was here first."

"It likes me better," said the yellow-shirted man.

"Why would it like you? You're ugly looking and your shirt is stupid."

"How do you know what an elevator thinks is ugly? Maybe it likes my shirt."

I...

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Heating nothing as I refrigerate.

Eating nothing as my body preserves.

We eat and are ultimately eaten.

Preheated, chilled and given to grubs.

We are products for sightless feeders.

Put a tag on me and ship me in a box.

Deliver me to the earth, to be opened up.

Reclined, collapsed, softened and served.

This oven of nothing is heated anyway.

I stare at the flames to assert my intention.

I am alive for now. For now.

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You can count me out.
That was what he had said as he had stormed off.
It wasn't as though the plan had been so ridiculous. It would just have been time consuming and time was the one thing he did not have in abundace.
He still had to write his paper, read five chapters worth of background material, prepare his meal chart for the week and continue training for the marathon.
No, he did certainly did not have time to mess around by climbing flagpoles and pulling practical jokes.
Just like he hadn't had time to go out with...

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I thought she was made of china, the first time I met her. Girls that perfect didn't exist, only dolls. Frozen icons of perfection, unattainable.

She made me feel clumsy - she was slight, small, pale, hiding behind perfect ringlets. On paper we sound the same - the same could be said of me (apart from the ringlets; my hair is straight, limp) but she wore it with pride, I treated my height as a disability, my weight as an inconvienience, my skintone a health hazard. I looked sickly, she looked ethereal.

Somehow it wasn't a surprise when she spoke...

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"Light. I feel light"

"I should think so, you lost about half of you."

I struggled to open my eyes, afraid to see what had happened. The last thing I remembered before the darkness was the light, the bright light that had surrounded and suffused me, that had seemed to consume me. A hand waved in front of my face, and at first I was certain it wasn't mine, couldn't be mine. I had never been that skeletal, I had always been a rather large man.

"Easy there, you just did something stupid or amazing, and you're rather week. We...

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He'd sat patiently on the threshold of the kitchen all afternoon. She'd dropped countless morsels of crust, of walnuts, chunks of apple and even some of her own snacks, the clumsy klutz. Yet he'd abstained, withheld, conquered himself.

Now she was taunting him -- he felt it deep in his soul. She'd left the pies to cool -- small round pies, aromatic sweet pies -- at eye level. His eyes. She'd gone from the house (where? did it matter?) and left him to conquer himself.

Taunting his resolve. He thought to his mother who'd trained him in her ascetic ways....

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