The jigsaw box cover was a bit different to normal so Megan decided it could be worth doing. Especially with the caption 'THIS BOX WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE' she wondered what this could mean, no doubt some kind of advertising ploy.

10,000 pieces. It was a hard slog but after her boyfriend ditched her a couple of weeks ago and none of her female friends were interested after she had ignored them when Rob was on the scene, she didn't have much else she fancied doing. Even Facebook seemed too much hassle.

Whilst she was searching and fitting pieces she...

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I will put my fingers together and pull the grass up from the roots. I will do it before my mother comes outside. If I don't she'll ask "what have you been doing out here all this time?" But if I do, I'll have something to show for myself. I'll give her the stalks of grass as if they are flowers. She may thank me, but she more likely will wonder why I bothered to dig up the good grass.

I will move away from home one day soon. I will plant a garden where I live. I will make...

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Loved him for an evening.

Sienna had a way of loving them that way. In one evening her compassion for the man at her side transcended adoration.

The men usually left quickly, a blur of parties, cigarettes and alcohol. She was happy enough that way, and of course so were they.

The man in the red hoodie was a bit different. About ten years younger than her if she cared to admit it. As slim as her, with large, dark, cow eyes. Sweet as pudding and she let him linger a week.

Apparently had found religion recently, tried bringing her...

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"And, did he ever touch you inappropriately?"

Sarah paused her story for a moment, growing red in the face. "What?"

"Did he ever touch you, it's okay, you're not alone. This office is a safe place."

"Why would you even ask?" Sarah nearly yelled in her surprise.

"Look, I get a lot of patients coming through here and I just want them to know that they can talk to me freely. It would be statistically plausible that he touched you at one point."

"It would?"

"Yes, look, I have your breast interests in mind."

"Well... maybe, I dunno."

"He probably...

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I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead. I had died probably 15 minutes ago by a raving lunatic. I know, drastic way to go right? Actually, it was quite thrilling.

So, there I was walking on Park Street when I hear this noise coming off from the left. It wasn't like anything I'd heard before. I shouldn't have done it. I'd still be alive. Those are the choices we make I guess. Anyway, I go over to see what's up and this guy jumps...

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I've been taught to play it safe since I was a child. Everything always slipped out of my grasp. And I never seemed to mind. Then you managed to come into my life and make scars that, even decades later, will remind me of the love we had. Can you fathom how beautiful that is? I held onto you tightly because you were the only thing that mattered. Please don't say that my love was suffocating you. I couldn't imagine loving you any less. Maybe we were too young to understand what we had. Maybe I was too naive and...

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It was hard to be in the elegant room, trying not to move while the crowd swarm around him. George stifled a sigh. If he wasn't getting the eight dollars an hour, he wouldn't have put up with the gawking crowds.
All he had to do was stand still for thirty minutes at a time, dressed as Napoleon. Simple, mindless, perfect job for George. No heavy lifting, no math, nothing that should have embarrassed him. But the crowds, God they were enough for him to scream.
"Who's that?" a snot nosed little girl asked a man, that hopefully was her...

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Portraits of this generation stand on the top of the grand piano, making it impossible to open the thing and get a good quality of sound out of it, not that anyone dare play in the sanctuary. Portraits of the previous generation hang on the wall in the family room. Portraits of the generation before that hang in the dining room, while portraits, just four of them, all that they had, hung in the living room, huge ovals of ancestry cluttering up what might have been a nice space. The house would have to be remodeled before another generation came,...

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The water was clear and the sky, a burden. That clear, opening water annexed from infinity by the murky, swollen sky. Everything the sky held glared and grimaced like sweaty bustlers at a flea market.

And then I look back at the water and eke out a smile before the groaning creak of the sky turning darker toward the night pulls out my grin like a bad tooth.

The water was clear, so clear I couldn't see the bottom.
Lousy sky.

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Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. Waiting, patiently. Hoping that he would answer. But, with her ear pressed up agaisnt the door, she heard nothing. No footsteps. No television blaring music videos. No german shephard barking incessantly. Her greatest fear had been realized. Yet at the same time, her wish had come true. He was gone. The man that lured her in some three ago, only to break her heart. The man she followed half way across the world to be with. The man she gave up her hope and dreams for....

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