She pulled her red gown high over her head, trying to shield herself from the oncoming terror, but to no avail. The sheer vivid colour of the gown made her stand out from the bustling crowds, no matter how much she tried to huddle into the dank doorway of the closed shop.
"Please let me in," She whispered, scratching desperately on the chipped wooden panelling, "please." Tears started to fall down her cheeks as she heard the heavy footsteps of her pursuers getting closer and closer, the people around her seeming not to notice her distress.

Suddenly the door creaked...

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"Just drink the tea, Maggie." Custom said. He had set up a beautiful table with scones and tea and all the fripperies that go with it.
"I don't think so." Maggie said. She appreciated the gesture of friendship but Custom had been trying to control her for too many years for her to trust him now.
"I didn't poison it." He said, petulantly. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair to sulk.
"I'm sure you didn't but I've come too far now to bow to you." Maggie said as she hiked up her skirt...

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I have a cat.

Look at my cat. This is my cat. I have a cat.

The cat likes it when I hold it. The cat likes to put its paws on my shoulders. It is my cat. I have a cat.

The cat is tawny and it likes looking at the sky on snowy days. It is not cold because it has fur. I am not cold because I have a warm jacket and a toque. I have a cat.

My cat has a name. Its name is Cat. That's right. Cat. Cat is a cat. Cat the cat....

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Time stopped the moment I recognized the driver. I clenched my fists and stepped back onto the curb but the car screeched to a stop and I knew he'd recognized me.

I could have run back into a building, found an exit into an alley. Instead I bolted into the middle of the street and froze on the crosswalk. My eyes met the driver's and I heard as if from a distance the honking horns and screams of cars and people.

My throbbing pulse sent cold pumps of blood through my body and my skin prickled, and my clothes dampened...

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There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.

He showed up yesterday. Waltzed in through the front door like he owned the place. Maybe he does, actually. I certainly don't.

I've been here for a couple of months. When the sun's up, I'm usually out doing something else, like fishing in the creek out back, or building a dam with rocks and fallen branches. It passes the time. Every now and then it even gets me something to eat.

But in all my time here, I'd never known anyone to even step off the sidewalk onto the lawn. Never...

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I was reading a great book when the words turned to sand. A hole opened up on the page and the words drained through, and I, engrossed in the plot, followed them.

When I awoke everything was different. But just slightly so. My alarm clock's red letters were blue. My green-striped sheets were now blue striped. The knobs on my dresser had turned from square to oval. My fat tabby cat was a calico.

The stuff was all there, it was just the details were mixed up. It was like a sketch artist had recreated my room based on a...

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I'm in love with a robot. Thing is, she doesn't even notice. She doesn't even have any feelings, whatsoever. Her positronic net doesn't have the capacity for joy, or anger, or love.

Naturally, this poses a problem.

How do I tell her about my feelings? She knows the dictionary definition of love. But she doesn't know the meaning. I have no idea how she would take it. Would she just acknowledge it, and then continue on with her work?

The worst part is, the fact that she has no emotions is part of the reason I love her. She can't...

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"Quack quack quack!"

*Translation: OH NO! BP!

"Quack quack quack quack."

*Translation: I'll have to move to another pond now...

"Quack quack..."

*Translation: Stupid #$#@%$%$#^#$ humans.

"Quack quack quack..."

*Translation: Or maybe I'll just steal all their rubber duckies. See how they like losing something.

"QUAAAACKKK!"

*Translation: MWAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

Mr Duckie went to become the Robin Hook of all ducks, stealing rubber duckies from all the human children and all the grownups who still like flotation toys. Right now he has a large organization, SOPWRD (Save Our Pond With Rubber Duckies) and has declared Ernie from Sesame Street as Duck Worlds...

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Fish meant for market was found dumped in a bin outside the school. The mother believed the rotting smell would disguise her hidden bundle beneath. Her post-birth addled brain forgetting only papers were supposed to be in that container and what she tried to dispose would be eventually found.

Margarita wasn't a bad person. She did what she thought best at the time. Took her baby to the church and left her on the steps timing so the priest would find it. The bloody towels, rags, her own clothing stuffed below the fish. She kept the umbilical cord and placenta....

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The darkness was approaching. The reds and oranges of the sunset, creeping together with the blackness that occurs when it's time for the moon. Contemplating life, reaching for answers. Like, "why did I leave home," "how did I watch him pack the car and drive away?" and others. Soul-searching. The sound of crickets, the rustling of small animals. I was scared, but not of my surroundings, just of what my late 20's had become. A joke, a hot mess, a scandal, some lies. I bet that's what people were thinking of me anyway. A job I hated, a life I...

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