It was a cold day in May when Saffy and Blaze visited the zoo. They weren't too keen, but the weather was adverse enough to prevent bikini clad beach visits.

Saffy perked up when she realised they zoo had lots of tigers in residence. They trailed around behind a school group. Twenty or so seven year olds trying to behave in a way that kept their friends entertained, yet the teachers happy. The zoo was better than being cooped up in a classroom anyway.

Blaze said, "come on Saff, let's hear what this keeper has to say," as the twenty-something...

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The wheels on the gurney squeaked in time to the beat of his heart. He had forgotten to tell Mary and the kids something. He'd told Johnny and Sarah to mind their mom's words, to study hard, get good grades, everything you'd want to tell your children in 6 minutes before they wheeled you off into heart surgery. This time, will it take? Will I finally get the heart that belongs to me or will my body reject it, another hope dashed, another disappointment in its place. Another list, more waiting, more drugs, another death. Mary, he'd forgotten to kiss...

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The conversation lasted two words: Alright? ...Yeah

It wasn't groundbreaking, it wasn't revolutionary, it wasn't even poetry, but it was all they needed to say.

They had been the best of friends once, closer than brothers. George had had his own room at Jack's house, Jack had had his own shelf in George's fridge. But somewhere along the way, they had lost that.

Was it because Lissy, George's ex-girlfriend had hated Jack, was it because of the fact that Jack went off to uni while George stayed in their hometown, or had it merely been because of the fact that...

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Gigantic. It's not a word you use to describe a penis. It's too bulky. Women want softer words. More exotic words. Words that whisper and moan.

Never start with sex either. You start in the middle of things and the audience has nowhere to go. I recommend a bus stop. You get a conversation going. Maybe about how yellow the daisies are lately or why the bees are dying.

Of course you'll think the audience will get impatient. Get to the hard core sex already! But they won't. Anticipation and all. I once wrote a story that had fourteen pages...

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I used to follow my grandfather up the field, gathering potatoes. He would pull them up and leave them like gold nuggets, glowing on the topsoil. I came behind with a trug that was big enough for my baby brother to sleep in. I struggled when the trug was nearly full, and I'd have to set it down every few yards and watch my grandfather as he worked mechanically ahead of me.
I daydreamed that, one day, there would be a real gold nugget lying on the row. I would take iot to the bank and a big man with...

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Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. She hugged her shoulders and shivered in the form fitting dress. Too little cloth and too much cold collaborated to goose-pimple her flesh.

The man on the bed behind her called her back. She waited as long as she could before she knew he'd start complaining, and then she turned. He told her what to do. She did it. What choice did she have?

Later that evening, the Madam demanded the money she'd collected that evening. The girl pulled up the straps of her dress. "Yes,...

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Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway.

Twice, in Singapore, she sat by a fountain.

Three times, in Kuala Lumpur, at three different locations, she waited by Banyan trees.

She was waiting. Always waiting.

She was waiting for me.

She didn't know that I knew that she was waiting for me, but enough money, in the right pockets, can keep me out of trouble. *Has* kept me out of trouble for the past four years. Kept me out of her hands. Out of the hands of the people who wanted to find me....

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I looked through my photo album, my fingers flipping the pages quickly, as I looked for that one photo.
There it was, towards the back.
I stopped and smiled.
I could still hear my voice demanding to have this photograph taken.
A woman stood to my right. Her smile shining with pride as her hand held mine. She had always been there for me. Almost as far back as I could remember now. I often thought of her as the source of my conscience because she always seemed to give advice that pointed to the moral north, but at the...

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Jimmie was eternally in love with the women of his dreams. She was the most independent and confident person he knew. I heard a song about her once…

"I love her cuz she got her own. There is nothing more sexy than a girl who wants but don’t need me.

Young independent, yeah she works hard but you can’t tell from the way that she walks. She doesn’t slow down cuz she ain’t got time to be complaining, surely gonna shine.

She don’t expect nothing from no guy. She plays aggressive but she’s still shy. You will know her softer...

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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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