"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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The car stalled. The roads were half washed out and the rain pounded like a blacksmith's hammer on the hood. The storms began a few days ago, but before that it had been a dry summer. After the first downpour, people started smiling and stopped fanning their faces. Life strained under the drops in vegetable and flower gardens.

After the first whole nights of dark heavy clouds, the constant grumble of thunder, people were still trying to be positive. Good for the forests, dry as tinder, they'd say. The river was too low anyway.

After a week and flooded basements,...

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I had a dream the other night. We were sitting alone in our rooms, all of us, every single one, when suddenly —

The walls just fell away. There was no sound, no pyrotechnics; with a quiet resignation, all the matter in the world, except for our warm, breathing bodies, fell down into the void, leaving us floating purposelessly, naked.

And we all looked at each other, as the psychic frameworks that we etched into the streets, into our homes – our routines, our beaten paths, all the conventions that existed not in the world, but in the world as...

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Daring to be noticed for the first time in her life, she pushed her chair back and stood up.

"Ladies? Gentlemen? Entities?" Helen paused. No response.

Helen glanced around. The large workroom -- some schizophrenic combination of retro and avant0-garde -- was loud, clicking and warbling and chatting in a very large number of tongues.

Helen cleared her throat. It should have been for effect, but it was because her throat had suddenly dried, as if she had swallowed the entirety of the Sahara back on Terra. "People! And non-people! Listen!"

To their credit, many did. Many didn't, but that...

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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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then it picked up, it picked up like the coming of an ocean born storm. Not a movement in the air; a few dark clouds separate. Aeros licks your face, sending a chill down your spine right to your sacrum, right down into the earth: grounded. Crystalized. Everything becomes clear yet remains fractal. You sat down next to me. Your thick accent warming me up on this cold afternoon. But your not present, your a another world away, its probably the middle of the night. Maybe your enjoying a midnight snack.. maybe your thinking of me too. And maybe the...

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She'd have preferred the electric chair. Even torture, a little watter-boarding couldn't possibly hurt THAT bad. But this, this was the worst punishment she could ever imagine.

She sat in the church pew, holding the envelope in her hand. Yeah, the cops actually let her keep the bounty from the hit. The only catch was that she had to sit through the funereal.

She watched the man's wife comfort a six year old. She could've sworn she heard the words, "where's daddy?" No matter how hard she tried to convince herself that her mind was playing tricks on her, no...

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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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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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Ceci n'est pas un garçon.

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