It wasn't my fault. It couldn't have been. She was dead when I got there.

I know my fingerprints were on the gun. It was my gun, of course my fingerprints were on it. Yes, I was the last one to see her alive. But that was hours before she died. I do stand to inherit a large sum of money. I loved her. Why would I kill her over something like that?

The CCTV could easily have been doctored. Besides, you don't see the killer's face. It must be a coincidence that she and I have the same build....

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"His thoughts are too scattered, just give him a moment to collect." This advice within the high pitched laugh of a well-meaning mother. The tour guide had simply meant to ask her son a simple question, how could the guide know that the son had no intention of answering?

"Well." The guide sputtered, looking for a simpler way to ask the stubborn child with almond eyes if he liked the zoo. Finding nothing suitable, he reached into the cage behind him and pulled out a red snapper. "Here, hold it."

The child held his hands out and mewed with delight....

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The wind swept through the area, sending a chill through the hearts of all those that were paying respects here, the weather reflected the emotions contained here, it was violent and broken, moaning around like hell was chasing on its heels. Despite the destructive nature, the gale seemed to gather behind me and encourage me towards a path I had walked often, towards the highest part of this graveyard. The thorns dug into my hand harder, a painful reminder of why I was here. The sun had started to retire, casting an eerie golden glow, hitting the headstones in such...

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Can the dust be blown off of some that isn't tangible, something that constantly whirls through us?

She didn't have a single hand to hold, but she wasn't lost. The events leading up to her disappearing were normal enough: the first camping trip of the season with a man she utterly, and hopelessly loved, a trip up to Wisconsin to feel some more of those Midwest roots, and then, some relaxing days of looking for some work.

And that was it. That's all it took for her to disappear, and leave the internet all together. Before this, she had high...

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It was midnight on the roof,the stars bright and shining, the moon full and gleaming. Sat up there alone I contemplated my own existence. As this speck in the whole tapestry of existence, can my life have meaning? Will I be able to understand all that life presents to me?

These questions plagued my mind for a few minutes, turning over slowly whilst I search for any answer, to questions I knew would be impossible to find one for. In the tranquility of the night, the mind often wanders to such matters. Within the idea of the unknowable, is the...

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He likes his own room, but he likes mine more. He's five. Half the time, if he had his way he would climb back inside me. He can never get close enough. Half the time. The other half he's complaining. Scowling. "You're interfering with my personal space!" Like he's breaking up with me.
So when he stands there, waiting, in the corner, and he asks if he can share our room, our bed, our space, I do what any rational human would do. And that's to pick him up and hold him, smell his head, that getting-bigger head, and say,...

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Two men entered, wearing respiratory masks. They came over to the register and looked at Martin, who just looked back in disbelieve. "What's with the masks?" The two men walked around the counter. "Hey, look, I don't work here. Nobody is here, I don't know where everyone is. This might sound crazy, but what year is it? Where am I?" The two men grabbed Martin by his arms and started dragging him outside. "Wait! Stop! Talk to me, please!" The two men ignored him. Outside, there was a parked van. The side doors opened, and another masked was waiting inside....

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There is a point where you have prayed enough. When you have suffered enough. It was at this point that Imelda figured out how to pick the lock on her bedroom door.

The sound of the door creaking rattled in her ears. Carefully, she felt along the walls. She headed for what she remembered was the front door.

She couldn't see anymore. Years locked up in the darkness, her eyes were mere pinpricks in her face. She could hear the sound of breakfast being prepared. Hear the sound of their voices as they laughed. The sizzle of bacon.

She remembered...

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He saw everything for the first time. Spread out before him, yes, the world was his oyster. He reached forth his hand, but unseen, as he should have known, was the wall. He could touch it, if he could just touch it. Everything he needed, the love, the comfort, the possessions, the knowledge.
The frustration didn't set in until later, but not much later. He took the time to soak it up, to breathe it in, to become accustomed to his surroundings. It was a relief. He would do things the way he remembered. He wouldn't be concerned.
There was...

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The disco ball was turning and I was sweating profusely as I danced amidst the twitching light that captured each person's movements frame by frame. My arms flailed in the air, pointed straight up in the chilly night while my torso shook from side to side.

And we were all dancing like this, without a care beneath the stars shimmering against the pitch black sky where the moon was covered in a thin veil of condensed water and soon, we believed, we would all condense up like if we were to stop our apparent motion.

We'd all freeze because we...

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