Drip. Drip. Drip. The blood plopped to the concrete floor like a leaky faucet. He contemplated about the throbbing pain he felt with every plop.

He enjoyed that feeling. Concentrating so much on one pain over and over again. The first time he asked his boyfriend to blindfold him and punch in him the face - his boyfriend thought he was being dirty.

"You like it rough..." he had coyly responded.

The problem was it stopped being about the pleasure and more about the pain. He wanted to feel the warm liquid glop from his mouth and puddle to his...

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"I'm falling in love with her."

"Oh, that's nice, that really is." She watched him sit up, get up, finding his clothes. "I'm glad."

"That means that this stops."

She frowned. "What? Why?"

He turned to stare at her. "Why? Because this is cheating as it is, let alone -"

"This is just physical. Let her have the emotional and let me have the physical." She got out of bed, sauntering towards him, smirking when he turned away. "There's no reason to stop."

"I really feel something for her. I don't want to hurt her."

"You aren't hurting her. She'll...

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Back in his days, John was the sharpest lawyer in town. At the office we used to call him the "Samurai". He used to step into a court room, with a sword for a tongue, he would win over the jury, and he'd win the case, before you even noticed that it started.
So when he took on the case of the murdered child as the defence, the media was all over him. I remember him cancelling a meeting, because there were so many camera teams around him, that he could not move his car. When I asked him why...

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I'd had so many plans, just before I went back. I was prepared to an insane degree. I'd spent days camping in the wilderness, gathering enough iron to create a goddamned magnet. I'd memorized the fundamentals of aviation, chemistry, nuclear physics. I knew all there was to know about rebuilding civilization.

And it had all slipped away, one memory after another, fading into a blur, after I'd fallen through the time vortex.

So here I am, trying to explain to some neolithic ignoramus how to make gunpowder. The most I can remember is that it requires a mixture of sulfur,...

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He hadn't wanted the light there.

She had insisted - there was light on her, light on her voice, lifting her up, letting them all see her. He was playing too (had a solo during one of the songs, actually) so why shouldn't they see him?

He'd tried to protest that it wasn't traditional, and she'd just given him one of those looks, the one that made him certain that if ever (...when) she did get signed the record label wouldn't be able to force her into one of those moulds they seemed so fond of.

He'd stood his ground,...

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Hands by Vi.

She sat staring at the skin of her hands. Her eyes traced the many lines, imagining the skin to be the brown, scorched earth of deserts, thirsty for life.

The wrinkled skin gathered above her enlarged knuckles, reminding her of dried fruit.

She continued examining her hands, wondering how the finiteness of life had come to suddenly feel so tangible.

Her veins somehow looked foreign. Her age had caused her veins to become like strange, throbbing, river-like threads of yarn, sewn to her flesh, invading her hands.

She rubbed the underside of her index finger against the rough surface of...

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Being punched in the face for the first time is always a shock. Even with the gloves, it still hurts, and that mouth guard, well, sometimes it does mor harm than good.

I staggered against the rails and spit into the bucket, feeling around with my tongue. Are my teeth in tact? Yes.

"You out, Sam?" Called the ref.

"No!" I yell, adjusting my bandana and flying towards my opponent again. For a little thing, she is surprisingly strong and fast. She lands an uppercut and swift solar plexus blow that leaves me winded before plowing me over.

She pulls...

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"Wait! Wait!" Sam huffed and ran.

There was a red light, which finally made the huge white vehicle stop. It's lights weren't flashing, so Sam was sure the driver wasn't too busy.

He banged on the door only stopping when the window rolled down.

"Yeah?"

"Please!" Sam pulled in huge gulps of air. "I really could use a ride to the-" gulp, "-nearest gas station."

Blankly, the driver stared. "Seriously, dude?" the man chuckled. His deep blue eyes looked amused. "Does this look like a taxi to you?"

"No, of course not, and I completely understand!" Sam raised both hands...

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Now, supposedly, if I start out a hundred meters ahead of Achilles, and Achilles is travelling five times faster than me, when he has covered that hundred meters, I will nevertheless have travelled twenty. And when he travels twenty, I will have travelled four. And when he travels that four, I will have traveled .8 meters, and so on and so forth, such that Achilles will never reach me. I win.

But Zeno, the cur, says that, eventually, Achilles overlaps me. "We know it from experience," he tells us. God damn experience! I know that if Achilles is continually arriving...

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She knew that she would find him here. It was his escape, the place he came to find peace. It was quiet and he was rolling up alone, up and down the rink. first with the jack, then with his favourite woods, he never tired of it.

'Dad!' she called.

'Hello, Nicola. I won't be a moment.'

She watched as he bent slowly and lifted his woods, tucking them into the crook of his arm. he slipped the jack into his pocket and patted is to make sure it was safe. According to Dad, you couldn't leave a jack lying...

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