The lamp wouldn't turn on.

Strange, she thought, I just changed the bulb yesterday.

Feeling her way through the dark living room, Camille passed into the dining area and saw the stairs leading to the second floor were lit with tiny tealights. Following them up, she called out, "John?" No answer. A little louder, "John, are you home?." At the top of the landing, more candles lit a path from the stairs and into the hallway. Camille started down the hall but paused when she passed the closed bathroom door. Thinking John might be inside the bomb shelter-like walls, she...

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"Tis a penny," said he, and bent to retrieve the copper coin from the sidewalk. Holding it between gloved finger and thumb, he inspected the date with a squinting eye and dropped it into his vest pocket.

"Aye, twy twirrly twee, a penny's enough fer you an' me," he sang and performed a pirouette for the passerby.

A woman, richly attired and ambling along with an aristocratic gate, stopped to consider the man as he continued to spin in circles. A member of the upper crust, she lacked that innate mechanism, honed by the lower classes, which steered one away...

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"Constellation of freckles."

I made a face. "Oh, that's going on the list."

She nodded with a degree of authority - she hadn't needed me to tell her it belonged on our list of paticularly purple prose, our list of phrases that were to be avoided at all costs.

"Can you even get a constellation of freckles?"

"Well, of course you can, it's an arrangement - it's the implication I resent. That freckles are like stars - who'd have starry freckles? You can't wish on a freckle."

"You could. I think that could be quite a romantic scene."

"Depends on...

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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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It comes from fearing science.

In America of 2025, the faithful had won. No one believed in evolution. No one believed in vaccination. No one believed in soap.

The foreign countries had taken to calling them "Potatoes" because they were white under the thick film of dirt that comes from refusing to wash.

The potatoes were in a panic. Some potato, venturing beyond his or her front door, with a long lost telescope discovered in a storage room, had pointed it at the sky and seen something move. Watching further, the potato did a bit of empirical deduction and derived...

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In hindsight, the solution was obvious. Of course it was. It always is. But at the time it seemed like an impossible thing, a thing that would never be solved. A thing that would haunt her and taunt her forever and ever amen.

The crossword in Mrs Grey’s daily paper may not, to others,especially perhaps her husband, have seemed like much of an importance, but to her it was everything. It was the thing that, for just an hour or so each day, made her feel clever. It made her feel like a proper human being instead of the tired...

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The two of them sat there, staring at their glasses. They each had their of Johnny Walker, black for one, red for the other.

The bar tender walked by, they almost simultaneously motioned toward their glasses.

The pour seemed slow, but they paid no attention to it. Garbed in black suits, with white shirts and black ties, they hunched over their vessels, as if protecting the precious liquid from some evil darkness.

"I just can't wrap my head around it, Gabriel."

"I know Joseph."

"I mean, today was one of those days you read about, you watch in movies, man."...

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'It's the largest ship I've ever seen.'

"It's the only ship you've ever seen."

"This is why I don't watch movies with you."

"Oh, look at her, look at her pandering to the camera - "

"She's an actress, it's her job."

'This is the beginning of such an adventure!'

"This is the beginning of such an awful film. Why are we watching this?"

"Because I like this film, and you're my sister, you're meant to at least try to like things that I like."

"Surely, as your sister, I am meant to pull your hair, steal your clothes, make...

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The storm had blown over, but not before it had blown over his ship, along with all of his crew. The captain always went down with the ship, but by the time he woke up from a plank smacking him upside the head, he found himself drifting alone on a plank of wood in the middle of the ocean, no one else in sight. Too late to sacrifice himself to the sea gods now.

As he drifted, he knew shore was near. There were too many birds flying about for it not to be. He just had to hope the...

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"Which way to Omaha?"

Paint flakes blew in the wind. It smelled like gas. Anna's hair was matted; she could feel it knot further. She had nothing; the pockets of her pants were empty except for lint and paint flakes. And one quarter.

The men here knew nothing except that a woman, however unattractive and hagard, was standing in front of them. Who cared where Omaha was, anyways?

"You want some money, sweetie?" One of them whistled. "Ain't no one givin' you money in Omaha."

She rolls her eyes and walks away. Dust settles in the space above her clavicle....

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