"Wait, so he hit you?"

We had been over the story several times by now, as Carl sat down bringing a fresh round of amber colored liquid in pint glasses.

I ignored his question as I tried to figure out if this was another IPA or something different.

"Yes," I said, snapping back to reality.

"Damn dude, that fucking sucks," Carl said taking a sip of his beer.

I shook my head in agreement. Took a sip. It was the IPA. Damn that is a good beer.

"Yeah, he just snapped after I told him he was being an asshole...

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I looked at the passport, and then back up at the woman standing in front of me.

"Are you serious?" I asked, a puzzled look on my face.

She looked sad.

"What is to be funny?" she said, her broken English somehow endearing.

"I don't know how they do things in..." I turned her passport over, and looked at the country name listed. It took up three lines, and many of the letters just looked like squiggles to me. "...your home country, but over here we do things differently."

"Is me!" she smiled, and I felt my tough exterior melting...

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Iridescent, the water moved silently over her head as her toes grazed the soft sand beneath her. In an equilibrium, almost floating but almost standing, she let the water raise her arms. This was limbo.

People always said it was best to keep your feet on the ground, so to speak. When the mind wanders, ideas get lost. Was that the way it really worked, the woman wondered, exhaling and releasing small bubbles of her life-breath into the water. The bubbles traveled upward to the surface, releasing her breath for her over her head. It was true, water made you...

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I'm with stupid. That's what his t-shirt says. the arrow points at me, because I always walk on his left. People read it and look at us and laugh. They don't know that he doesn't wear it for jokes and giggles. He means it. He always wears it when we go out together, which is only once a week. He allows me to do the weekly shopping with him. He makes the list but I have to carry it, because he always pushes the trolley.

Somewhere deep down I know he's a control freak and I should break away. Amy's...

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The border. He had. To find. The border. He'd made this trip a hundred times before and each time the damn thing moved. When he thought of it - if he thought of it at all - he imagined it as some kind of mystical shimmering veil. Except you couldn't actually see it. Couldn't map it. It might be there with the next step or it could take a thousand more and he never knew which it would be. He was pretty sure he'd been walking straight for it but... had he just been circling? Was he even heading in...

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This dream was better than waking.

In this dream, she lay next to him, fingers entwined talking about school, family, tv shows, the universe - they were creating inside jokes, they were getting to know each other and they were having fun.

In reality, she was hours away from him.

In this dream, he smiled at her and reached for her hand.

In reality, he had avoided making physical contact, eye contact, even making contact via phone.

In this dream, they fell into each other and fit perfectly.

In reality, the jigsaw pieces felt scattered and she had no idea...

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Waves. Waves lapping at the scarred coast line, the sound of gulls cooing above, the smell of the salty seawater.
The therapist had told her to imagine her happy place, every time she felt a panic attack coming on. Every time she felt stressed, which she was prone to, she came back here.
Her happy place.
She was nine years old, her strawberry blonde hair in pigtails, her jade green coat pulled tight to keep out the bitter wind. Balancing atop a weather warn log, she had pretended she was walking the tightrope at the circus.
She had always dreamt...

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He laid back, eyes closed, a smile stretched across his face. Summer never felt so good; the sun beating down made him relaxed, and he felt like he could sprawl out on the grass all day long.

With eyes closed, his mind drifted to summers past, lying on the grass with his dog Buddy after catching a frisbee back and forth. His mind was in another place, somewhere peaceful, simple, romantic even.

A place where the sun rises and sets with beautiful colors, where the grass is plush and Kelly Green. A place where the sailboats against the sunset have...

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Thou wanted to enjoy his iced latte
Thou wanted to bring the mood down in this joint
Thou wanted these tourists to be gone
Be gone tourists!
Thou forsakes thee!
Tourists
Poseurs
Wanna bees
Beardos

Thou is the grumbly heart of your demise
Thou is real
Really real
So frightening

So fucking real

Thou is not on tourist maps
Pamphlets
Brochures

Thou will burn away all this fake tourist bullshit
Thou will bring the mood down
in
this
joint

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Outnumbered. Jezebel stands on the ledge, hands fluttering up and down the slick chains. Outnumbered. She tries to breathe, but her lungs are collapsing.

The flavor of hospital-stale, taste of bitter pills and pomegranate streaked on the sheets permeates her stupor, glitterdust before her eyes.

Flash. She is back to the ledge. They dance around her, ritual motions, holding soft torches and reaching out to stroke her draining carcass. Jezebel leans over, testing the water. There is gulping sea bellow, and beyond that, empty. She will fall into the turquoise sheet and then past it, going going gone.

Outnumbered. She...

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