The lamp wouldn't turn on. "Shit," Mel muttered. "Jerry!"

Of course, he wouldn't come. He was in the tiny bathroom, savoring the one amenity included in the rent, his head bowed under the shower's heavy, erratic spray.

Mel moved over to the dusty window. Rocking back and forth with Ollie on her hip, she pulled the curtain aside and grabbed at a cloth sitting on the sill. Not caring what it was, she wiped at the windows and tried to see out. Somehow they never seemed to stay clean. Mel was amazed at the amount of dust that always seemed...

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The gate closed behind them. Skidmark spun around and readied his rifle, scanned the scene and grunted to himself. He lowered the rifle slowly and turned back around. It appeared that there was no escaping the arena.

About fifty yards across from him, another contestant appeared, a tall, lithe woman in a jumpsuit, her Mohawk towering a good six inches above her scalp. From the way her eyes glowed red, Skidmark could tell that it was Annex Annie, reigning champion of Arena Combat League. In her hand was her trademark laser mace.

Skidmark cracked his neck in anticipation of a...

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Punch Judy. What an interesting thought. Punching is an interesting action. If only I wasn't that familiar with it.

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The lights dimmed. Mary-Rose, in her black-and-white jail-striped dress entered the stage from the left. My left, not hers. I held my icy drink in my hand, legs crossed as I watched her nervously center herself behind the microphone. New Orleans was new to us, but they may have been a good thing, since we were the unknowns of the crowd. My manager Vinny got her the gig, after she promised that no one would start booing or throwing things at the stage. Normally I worked behind the swinging kitchen doors, but tonight, I was a VIP, front row to...

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The shapes were obstructing my view. I couldn't even look out the front window of the car for the shapes. i was taught what a circle, square and rectangle were when I was a small child, but now I've forgotten. I've forgotten it all. Nothing remains from preschool, not even the color blurred crayon drawings from Mrs. Couch's class. The only sign I know is peace. If only peace could get me from point a to point b. If only I could find my way through the traffic that way. Little speck of dust look circular, but they aren't they...

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Finally I had reached the moment that everyone could only dream of. As I stood in the white room, memories of the past kept going through my head. All the choices I had made to get to this moment; all the things I didn’t do when I could; all the things that led me here. When she walked in, my thoughts ceased. As the angel in white was walking towards me, tears began to fill my eyes with a smile appearing on both of our faces.

“Sorry I took so long to get ready.” Her hair was grey and...

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I have come to the conclusion that Jack suffers from a degenerative brain disorder. This may sound horrible coming from his own mother, but it's all I can think about these days. First off, he takes our only cow to the market and comes back with seeds when I specifically said we needed food. Sure, you can use the old fisherman analogy, but NOT when it involves an immediate need to fill our incredibly bare cupboards. I would have even accepted him butchering her for food. I really would have. But no, my son is a retard.

Magic beans? Really?...

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"What are you laughing about Jes?", inquired Sally.

"I just had the most wonderful dream", replied Jes.

"Can you tell me what is it about? Did you dream about winning the lottery? Or becoming a sophisticated cover shoot model? Come one now, spill it here? I want the details!"

Jes hesitatingly replies, "uhmm, well its about an ordinary day. I was in a beautiful beach and oh, i can only just imagine the warmth of the sun, the smell of the sea breeze and the feel of the wind in my hair".

"It was just perfect day", Jes added.

"That...

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Whitechapel 1888. There was blood on my pillow again this morning when I awoke. My landlady has already been asking too many questions. It is time I moved to another residence.

I am looking forward to reading the newspapers today to gather the latest opinion on the terror in their midst. My good friends have been spreading rumours in many quarters so there have been a myriad of possible suspects, including those in very high places. The police are far too stupid to know where to look. I take especial delight in fooling Inspector Abberline, who should never have been...

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The pistol was cocked... Ready to go. I didn't know what to do...

Should I shoot? Should I run? It was a question which required some thought. But I had no time to think.

I needed to think back to my college philosophy classes. Fight or flight. Talk or smoke.

So... I reached into my pocket slowly, all the while showing my pistol...

"Just let me show you my credentials"

hen I dropped my pistol. Then I ran.

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