i was playing with me mate cheeseball the fat slob and all of a sudden he came on my face. Peanut butter is chunky, you're fat

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“You’re looking down in the mouth.” Teddy had said. Earnest waited. He knew more was coming. More was always coming. Teddy sidled up to it.
“Bill and I were just saying… ‘Ernie is looking *decidedly* down in the mouth.’ he said to me.”
Earnest, who *decidedly* didn’t like anyone, least of all Teddy, calling him Ernie, sighed and waited some more.
“You need a pick me up. A tonic. Bill and I both use Blinko-wide-awake(TM)… and you can get 5% off. Just tell ‘em I sent ya…!”
“Are we done he…” Earnest started to say.
“Remember, that’s Blinko…!” his work...

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I held it at arms length. A scruffy business card in battered Russian. Something like “путешествие во времени”
(“puteshestviye vo vremeni” in my mother tongue. It had been a long time. I was rusty.)
“So, you’re telling me th…”

“That time travel is possible. Probable. Inevitable. Yes.”

“Ok, old man. I’ll give you a beer. Spill…”

“Well, Sonny… that would be a waste of good beer.” The ‘old man’ smiled. “Yes, yes. I know what you mean.” He shrugged.

“We know the universe is expanding, right? And that expansion is accelerating, yes?”

“Dark energy.” I snorted.

“Precisely, and no one...

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This is a confession that I wrote for you. Only you. And I know you won't understand this because your heart doesn't race at the sound of my name or voice. But I wrote this because I hope you do understand this. That you do feel something when you hear my name or voice.
I always seem to be behind you. It's not even one step that's separating us. It's a million steps that I'll never be able to close up because your expectations are slowly eating me up. Everyone seems to love you and I'm afraid that I do...

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“They’ve been sat still for 38 minutes. It’s clear they’ve just dug in to defend their flag. I say…”

“You say…” 117 interrupted his Squad Leader, who couldn’t have looked more pissed.

“John, enough of your shit!” He slid a finger across his throat in what he knew would be a futile gesture. “We’ve got the same tacticals as Red Team. We have the same number of cadets. They're boxed in. I say…”

117 coughed. “You say… er… Sir.” I think he genuinely tried not to sound insubordinate. He failed.

“All right, soon to be ‘ex’ cadet. Out with it.”...

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The tigers snarled at each other as they fought over the prize. Eyes narrowed, they watched for the slightest hesitation, the smallest weakness, in their enemy's eyes and stance. Finally, the larger of the two feinted to the left, then ran right with his booty. Quickly, the other followed as the world waited with baited breath.

Then, it happened. The great tiger leapt away from his pursuer, seeming to soar. The buzzer went off a split second after the ball dropped into the net and the crowd roared as the score changed: 63-59.

"I guess not everything's better in Metter,"...

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Absent. The perfect word to describe the situation.

Paul and Maria Strickland sat at their kitchen table eating breakfast, as they did every day. Forks scraped against plates as they lifted their scrambled eggs to their mouths, chewed, swallowed. All in silence. They'd been married for twenty years, eating in silence together for fifteen. Eating in silence was the only thing they ever did together anymore, except take care of their son, Mark.

The boy watched them from the den, where he'd taken to eating alone as he watched TV, a tray attached to the armrests of his black Quickie...

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Behind me, the world caved in. There it goes, I thought. There it goes at last. I emptied my pockets and threw my hands over my shoulders. I remember the sun was descending but the moon was so bright the day wouldn't leave. Night whined and nudged but the day wouldn't surrender. You are confused, moon, I yelled over my shoulder. Fade out, lady, I shouted over my other shoulder. Another ending of another world.

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Down six steps and under the fire escape.

Don't knock on the door, follow the hall to the end.

Go through the curtain and around the corner.

Follow the music.

Yes, just there, through that door.

Don't speak. Find a seat, even if it's on the floor.

Yes her voice is real, though you expect wings to sprout from her back at any time.

Put down your phone. This isn't for the masses. Did they make the pilgrimage? Did they risk the dank, dangerous streets?

They don't deserve to hear it. The phone won't capture it anyways.

Just sit. Listen....

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Never before had he entered this room. The dream of the golden sea was clearer in his mind than ever before. There was nothing in here beside a small woorden bench under the high window. When a girl suddenly spoke behind him, Entas froze to the spot. She said his name. Then she started to sing. And he knew: this is her. It must be her. She knew the lines and the melody nobody else in the world could possibly know.
Entas, she said, I'm here.
He turned around.
The light behind her was so bright that he only saw...

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