Where the sun sets, and the wind blows, two girls run across the ocean, having fun with each other. The two girls live their life, thinking of nothing but themselves. They have the time of their lives until... Water blew and high tides came, separating them from having fun. They clashed in the water, half dead. Everyone had barely survived as the tsunami occured. The tsunami stopped crying whilst people swept amongst the shore. They cried in sadness, all lost and disgraced. They were seperated not even remembering a thing. Who knew bad things would happen to such close, nice...

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I'm with stupid. The boy I was standing next to is an idiot. He continuously talked to me about whales, telling me how big they can grow to and what their teeth are made of. Why was I stuck with him? I could have been stuck on an island with anyone else, but nope.

He decided to swim for a bit, not thinking about the shark infested waters. I let him go without realising what he was doing. I was daydreaming of being home and eating blueberry pancakes. I soon was snapped out of my world and back into reality...

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The visitor asked, "Can you write a story without a prompt?"

"I don't know," said the writer. "I've never tried."

"Really? You mean all those stories you wrote arose from something you'd seen or heard?"

"Or something I'd read. Tasted. Felt. Wondered about."

"And the novels? The poems? That terrible album you wrote and recorded?"

The writer smiled. "Yes, all of them. I need to have something to start from, some germ of a concept that I can build on. It's like the way a jazz musician riffs off a set theme. They start with what they have and make...

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Prompt: Lola
“Who’s for another?” it came out as one word. Jack knew it and hid the knowledge with busy bustle. He wove towards the bar with a half-dozen empty glasses and the promise of help when he was served, but that detail was forgotten as Emily spoke in her soft voice.

“Does anybody here know the library?”

“Not since school,” was one answer. “Not old enough yet,” was another.” I have the internet at home,” said a third. I didn’t want Emily to lose interest in the face of such flippancy, so I tried to help.

“I go sometimes,”...

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Ill do anything to keep that pretty crooked smile on your face. I love the way your eyes twinkling when you laugh. We are so different. It such far away places and times. I can't imagine my life without you. I love your little round cheeks and bouncing brown curls. I love it when your hair is pulled tightly in a bun on top of your head with a big bow holding it in place. I admire your twirls and shasays as you dance about the house like you own it. "Sister" It'll never get old hearing you say it....

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She was the most delicate girl in town. Or at least, that's what they all thought. With her prim private school uniform, glossy ringlet curls and polite smile, she had them all fooled. Everyone except me. Noone knew her like I did though. Sharing a bedroom gives an unprecedented view into a person's inner psyche. I'm not just talking about dirty washing left on the floor and mugs growing mould, though that's gross enough. It's not even just the boys, or increasingly lately - men, she would shimmy down the drain pipe to meet. It's not even that her straight...

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She was walking down the sidewalk in the downtown area of Seattle when she noticed a pile of white blankets and other pieces of cloth laying haphazardly on the right side of the sidewalk.

When she approached the bundle of the white blanket and other cloth, she briefly felt for it, thinking that there could be someone sleeping or even a dead body that was either abandoned, or may have died from an illness related to the recently unbearable heat.

However, she found that no one laid in the blankets, made obvious by the way that it was just tossed...

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Heather didn't like being out in the rain. She was going to get even with that bastard Gene - how dare he dump her in such a manner, in the middle of nowhere. She eased the strap of her high heel shoe where it was rubbing, and turned to look back up the street. The road glistened black in the wet night, and the streetlights merged into the puddles. She began to walk, planning what she would do. For a start, she had his key, she realised suddenly with a gleeful grin. He wouldn't be able to get into his...

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They laughed at the little thing as it squirmed
The dark water so close but so far away now in their minds
The way things change the eye flits away reconstructs
Safety is everywhere in this dangerous time, safety is in the struggling eyes of a small thing

They left it to it's toil the diurnal nocturnal pull of it's nature
Clinging to the raft looking at the shore
The sun warm and pure on it's matted fur

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"Dammit it's cold today." Bard pulled his hat further down over his forehead and huddled into his fur. "This shit just ain't worth it, Jake." The mule nudged his shoulder and tugged on the lead. He knew where warmth was, as well as his grain.

Man and beast drudged along the logging trail beneath the cold, thin light of the winter sun. Behind them clouds piled up over the horizon, snow dark and ominous. Bard could hear the wind starting, a distant rush of sound bending tree branches and pushing the storm closer.

"Two more miles and we're home," he...

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