When the butterflies are high in the afternoon sky is the best time to sit by the lake. I am lucky to have the view I do, not many people can just waltz out their back door and be in the wonderland that is nature. I can.

I take my walkman (don't judge me) with me whenever I go down to the lake. I like to think about the day and all the wonders tomorrow will bring. It's not so lonely just being me and my walkman because a few butterflies always join me. Their gilded wings brush the water's...

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She'd have preferred the electric chair, at least that one bloody moved. She could get up a good speed on that one, maybe she could get out of it, escape their sympathetic looks. It was bad enough losing the power in your legs without their condescending looks. Idiots.

Apparently it was a "power chair", but, frankly, bollocks to that. Jokingt that she was living out a death sentence was one of her few pleasures left - that terror in their eyes, the "oh god how do we respond to that" was what she was living for right now.

Actually, that...

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I was all wrong. This wasn't the spot I thought we buried her. Jason was in front of me pointing left, and the sky was darkening. My mind was all over the fucking place. He's pointing left, when I swear we buried her right by this patch of weird leaves that looked like lettuce. Still, Jason swore that we needed to head left more. Really, when you commit such a crime, and forget where you buried the body, needing to go back to get it because you "accidentally" left the weapon right by the body, possibly with your prints... going...

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If given enough time to think of it he would go back into the fire to get it. The moment the Christmas gift was opened, he got up and filled the cup with coffee. Ever since then and with few exceptions it had been used most every day. It was white with Disney's Magic Kingdom logo on it just over the letters D-A-D also in blue. This wasn't his style or desire, but yet this was. He knew the minute he picked it up who the previous owner was, and it was a connection that he would never make in...

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Gradually. Ever so gradually, he noticed her work routine. She'd come into the shop below the CCTV camera that gave him his vantage point. She'd stop, check her skirt, then turn and wave. Wave straight at him, it seemed.

Once when he spilt his coffee he swore she looked up, about to greet the camera (or him?) and then the smile vanished. As if she had seen what had happened and was sorry for his stained pants.

In trawling through the back footage, looking for a pattern. Something to identify who had planted the device that had wrecked half the...

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"The sheep were at pasture," Daniel typed into his screen. Monica slinked up behind him, read the screen and mocked, "Wow Dan, that sounds like the beginning to a dirty joke, not a children's story."

"Thanks for the encouragement. Hey, I thought you were on your way to get your nails done?"

"I'm getting ready to go, I got stopped by a phone call from your mother."

"What did she want?"

"Nothing really. She just wanted to know if she could throw a surprise party for her little baby boy's thirtieth."

"Shit. I told you I don't want any of...

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Now, supposedly, if I start out a hundred meters ahead of Achilles, and Achilles is travelling five times faster than me, when he has covered that hundred meters, I will nevertheless have travelled twenty. And when he travels twenty, I will have travelled four. And when he travels that four, I will have traveled .8 meters, and so on and so forth, such that Achilles will never reach me. I win.

But Zeno, the cur, says that, eventually, Achilles overlaps me. "We know it from experience," he tells us. God damn experience! I know that if Achilles is continually arriving...

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The sky was blue, the grass was green and the little clouds were as fluffy as the picture in a child's reading book. All was well with the world. And on her swing, she could see above the park, above the neat hedges and the flowering bushes. She could, as she swung higher still, see over the row of terraced houses and into the street beyond. Over the flowering cherry trees and the neat gardens with their blossoming plants, over the heads of the middle class and middle aged gardeners and housewives and shoppers and busy bodies of the suburban...

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"I hate you! Get out of my face!"

Wow. That's just the way any teenage girl wants to start her day: the most popular guy in school declares in front of the entire gym class that he hates her guts.

Well, that's just the story of my life these days. Everyone who's anyone hates me. As if to emphesize that point, a red ball crashes into my face, knocking off my glasses.

"Simmons! You're out!" the gym teacher's voice echoes though the gym.

So, I go settle on the bleachers with the rest of the people out of the most...

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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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