Daring to be noticed for the first time in her life, she pushed her chair back and stood up.

"Malcolm, what are you doing?" The teacher frowned slightly.

"They're not freaks," she said, quiet but emphatic. "And they're not faking for attention. It's not a disorder, and it's not an illness. It's just a way of being."

The words had been running through her head for the past twenty minutes as the teacher had started talking about gender identity disorder, in which people didn't identify with the biological sex that they were born into.

"I'm sorry, Malcolm, but it's in...

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I was staring. I could feel myself doing to but I couldn't stop. I was transfixed.
We had met only three days ago and already I just knew that she had made an impression. Although until this moment, I had no idea just how much.
Her skin was flawless marble. Her frame slender and perfectly proportioned. Her hair long, thick and silky.
She was perfect.
Even now, as took off her clothes and showed me her secret.
The giant red scar cutting into her side.
She wasn't ready to tell me where it had come from, but I was okay...

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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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This is not what Steve had in mind when he signed up to test the virtual reality technology at work. Not at all. He thought it would be unicorns farting rainbows. But this was ridiculous.

The scenes were patterned after video games. Not because the team wasn't creative, but because that meant the testers didn't need to take the time to learn the rules of a new environment.

Steve had pulled Super Mario Bros. from the lot. Except there was a fatal flaw in the technology. Enemies didn't die, they just disappeared for a bit. Then they came back with...

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She didn't look at him. She couldn't. He used to be her father. He used to buy her sunflower seeds at the little convenience store near their home. She used to sit on his shoulders as he walked the dirt road, both of them searching the skies for the crows they could here.
He told her stories of a time when her mother dressed her in frilly dresses with lacy bloomers. He told her of how she would look all over the yard for Easter Eggs hidden within easy reach of her tiny little hands. He told her stories about...

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As Darvo walked into the glaring sunset on the western horizon ahead of him, he wondered to himself about the Yoga studio he passed by minutes ago. There were so many beautiful women in there doing flexible things that he knew that his own body was not capable of.

Darvo had actually passed by that same Yoga studio almost every day for the past six months when he took up a job as a salesman at the screen door factory next door.

Everytime he walked by, on his way home, he made a point to look inside the window of...

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The conversation lasted two words:
"Get out."

Get out of my car. Get out of my heart. Get out of my head.

Get out of my life.

He left after that. I think he heard all of the things I didn't say. I was angry with him, and rightly so. He never told me that he was already seeing someone when we started dating. He made me the Other Woman and I had no idea.

His sweater is still under the passenger seat of my car. His handwritten notes are still in the glove box. His voice is still in...

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The teacher looked at her students and said, "You will not make it."

"You will not be the next R&B star, a famous football or basketball player. You will not become the next Snookie or The Situation. You will not be discovered as a famous model/artist/musician/actress/fill in the blank after a year of struggle in New York City, where you went to 'find yourself.' You will not write the next great American novel. You will not become a billionaire."
The students threw bullets with their eyes that screamed a silent defiance. How dare you?

"You are going to need to...

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The maple leaves will change and fall with a certain grace - November will begin.

Carla read that sentence in her Literature textbook over and over, and the thought that kept running through her mind was, 'Who edited this book?'

That wasn't entirely true, but her internal monogue ran along these lines. Was she the only tenth grader who knew that semicolons connected independant phrases? Older people complained about how texting was ruining the language, but what difference did that make when a text book author, in what she assumed was an edited textbook ILLUSTRATING the language, couldn't even catch...

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I awoke, pissed, the activity, not the feeling, took a shower, got dressed, made coffee, drank the coffee, fed the dog, the fish, the cat, watered the plants, left a note for the cleaning people, heard a story on NPR that made me think of you, began to write a poem about the us we were, before we became the non-us, still it felt good to think of you, your smile, shoes, the way you opened your eyes after they were closed in the aftermath of our coupling, when we were a couple, it turned me on, I went back...

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