The fields were parched. There was no water. Where was the rain, she wondered as she stared across the cracked land. There were clouds rolling in from the east but they brought no hope of rain. The stream that used to run through here had been clear and sweet, she remembered. Sighing, she turned from the depressing sight and got back to preparing the evening meal. Jim and the boys would be home soon and they would be hungry after a long day in the fields.
"I can help you." A small voice said.
She jumped and looked around in...

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Marvin's head jerked up from the desk when he heard that ring. It was an awful ring - one that he should have been used to, and probably would have been, under normal circumstances. But the reason why this ring was so horrendous and annoying was because Melinda accompanied it, with her terrible voice, saying "Marvin! Pick up the damn phone!"
Marvin wanted to go back to sleep, but he knew that he shouldn't have been sleeping in the first place. And that voice, "Marvin, Pick up the damn phone!"
The trouble, of course, was that the phone had been...

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Black and white. I couldn't believe Dad had done it again.

I know I'm lucky, I do. You can say I'm spoiled if you like, but it doesn't matter - I'd asked for ONE THING this Christmas, and it was colour.

I looked up at my father, tried to fake a smile, and said 'Thanks'. As soon as he turned away, I rolled my eyes, and unwrapped my next present.

A sweater. Great. I wondered what colour it was - if I went out wearing this and one of my friends actually GOT what she asked for and could see...

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"And they thought that was porn?"

"I don't think they would have called it that. Erotica, maybe. But...yes. There's something so innocent about it, isn't there? I love the kimono on this lady here."

"I can't believe you're looking at the kimino."

"This isn't your late-night shocker, this isn't your gorey pop-up nonsense. This is - I suppose it isn't classy as such, but it's... There's something about it. It's old fashioned. Charming in its way."

"They had very different ideas then."

"The world wasn't sexualised, I suppose. Seeing half a naked woman was shocking enough. We're just looking for...

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The waves were bigger than she'd ever seen before. They were not waves tonight. They were destructive bombs, pulverizing everything in sight.

The ship groaned and twisted. Her efforts and those of the crew around here proved futile.

She gasped as a larger wave loomed in front of her. She braced for impact as the icy cold water plunged her into nothingness.

Deeper and deeper she went, her lungs gasping for air. She held fast the rope around her waist.

Then nothing.

She opened her eyes to a bright light. So bright. Where was she? Shielding her eyes she saw...

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"Rush! Hurry! We must get off the street before anyone realizes we've left. "
"Mummy, why?"
"Because I said so."
"Because he's bleeding, Mum? Is that why?" I grasped the edge of her suitcase, let it carry me along, my feet nearly leaving the ground. Breathless, visions of things much different from sugar plums. Blood. Screams, a distant siren, the smell of cordite. Done. Rush! Move! NOW! Hungry, what, no time. Leave the cat.
Down the stairs, falling, falling, falling out onto the cobblestones. Scent of mum's sweat mixed with tobacco, and the stench of death. Train sounds. Off to...

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I have seen lesser gods dancing on my street. I have asked for their names.

Come again?

The water for the tea is boiling. I hope you don't mind, but I need to leave. I hope you don't mind. I really hope you don't mind. I will stay, I will continue this conversation, but you can't hold it against me.

You don't believe me.

I have heard the wind patter the leaves at my doorstep like the footsteps of tree children playing.

I am nowhere near death. Why do you ask?

This is not about dying.

I have wanted to...

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I think it's number nine. Eight maybe. All I know is my face is slightly tingled.

"Another," she asks as she walks past me.

I give an affirming nod. She has to know I am nearing my limit, but I have learned to play this off well.

"You had the Green Line, right?"

I nod again.

The Cubs are on, and they are losing. Nothing new there.

A couple sits in the corner talking about important couple things.

Two friends sit the right of me, discussing how much their lives and the Cubs suck.

The glass ends up in front...

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Gigantic. It's not a word you use to describe a penis. It's too bulky. Women want softer words. More exotic words. Words that whisper and moan.

Never start with sex either. You start in the middle of things and the audience has nowhere to go. I recommend a bus stop. You get a conversation going. Maybe about how yellow the daisies are lately or why the bees are dying.

Of course you'll think the audience will get impatient. Get to the hard core sex already! But they won't. Anticipation and all. I once wrote a story that had fourteen pages...

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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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