Freewrite had been studying the whole damned week.
It was a chaotic week, filled with dark-roast coffee and cotton sweaters, self induced wakefulness like a ritual. Now, it was Thursday, and Freewrite still hadn't completed his research. He sat groggily, frustrated, hunched over a dark cup of coffee with a pen in his hand and a book to his left.

On the other side of the desks were threescore discarded books that had offered little relevance to him. Friday was tomorrow. Freewrite looked at his wristwatch. It was already 9:58 pm.

Freewrite realized that his thesis was due the morning...

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She opened the envelope and screamed.

It wasn't a scream of happiness. It wasn't a scream of surprise. It wasn't the hoped for money that grandma had promised. It wasn't the test results; they wouldn't come for another week.

It was a finger. In the bottom of the envelope. Dry of blood. Shrivelled and pale and a stub, a nub.

She dropped the envelope and scuttled back into a corner, her fist jammed into her jaw. Her eyes wide, she stared at the finger, as it lolled out of the envelope.

She could smell smoke. It had to be a...

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Absolutely ridiculous. I mean really, how could anyone expect that much of me when I'm only seventeen! So I said no, of course I'm not going to. Then the question came that I'd hoped he wouldn't ask: "why?" Oh, there are so many reasons why but I didn't tell him any of them. I didn't say anything. I just stood there telling myself not to cry, that I never could have said yes even if I wanted to. I tried to convince myself that I didn't want to say yes but I'm still not entirely sure if that's true. Well,...

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Mrs. Johnson put the Cheez Whiz in her shopping cart. There was nothing in the cart but her jar of Cheez Whiz. It sat on top of the hashmark design of the shopping cart, basking in its cheezy glory. The lid was securely fastened to the jar of Cheez Whiz but later, when someone removed it, it would pop and the jar would yield its treasure of orange cheesy paste.

Mrs. Johnson pushed her cart of Cheez Whiz through the store. People smiled at her because she was well known in her town. "I see you're buying some Cheez Whiz,"...

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Holographic women are all the rage. Easier than humans to be around. No talking back or gorging on chocolates to ruin their figures.

Only costs a thousand a minute, for a rich guy like me it's nothing. Won't be long before the price will be cheap so everyone will have them.

Dating agencies will be redundant as everyone will have their own virtual mate, eager to please. With the headgear it feels like you are with a real live woman.

Today I had a shock. Mirabelle somehow changed into a man, mistake in the software I guess, but until much...

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She held the cat tightly in her arms, relishing in the warmth. It was comforting, strangely comforting, how much she could rely on her cat. His name was Alfie and he was her life. However sad it may have seemed that cat was her life.
She carried the cat out into the snow, watching as his eyes looked curiously around, desperately trying to take in all the new sights.
He'd never seen snow before. That's why she'd brought him out in the first place. She hated snow herself. Hated the way it melted the moment it touched her. Hated the...

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Spinning. The whole world was spinning.

And not the good kind either. The ground was pitching backward under my feet, making the sky wobble on its axis and vault over me as I hit my knees.

It was so hot... This's heat stroke?

The black asphalt, hotter still than the sun itself, scraped my skin as I went down, the color brightening and blurring across my vision into one massive kaleidescope of obnoxious rainbows, melting together. The sound buzzed unintelligibly in my ears, somehow feeling cold.

"Get out of the way! Move it!" I could vaguely hear the sound of...

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The sun this morning grows short thick shadows from the cobblestones. A sweaty head against the curb, red hatching at his temple, bleeds dark light onto the lane.

Did someone win last night?
No, the square is too clean.
But it's too late for so little noise.

Perhaps the town has emptied its contents into the universe, jettisoned the citizenry, the mutts and ferals, the tourists and the visitors.

Oh, the visitors.

Who were those visitors? Cheerless, I thought at first. But, no, I reconsidered, occupied.

I look back at the sweaty head, shake mine, and continue, hand in my...

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When I was 12, I went to sea. I was on my father's ship for 6 months and 4 days when i caught a glimpse of her.
I had been sitting on a chair on the deck, watching island after island float by when my gaze started slowly moving downwards. I was almost asleep when i saw the fiery red tail splash next to the wooden paneling on the side of the ship. I jumped up, about to call for my father to see this magnificently huge fish when the creature jumped out of the water.
Attached to the red...

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It was ridiculous that at my age I could not do anything without my parents getting involved. They were overprotective, talking me out any everything, listing all the possible negatives so I ended up believing them.

At fifty three I was single, living off their generosity, sharing hobbies, going on holiday with them, waking, eating and sleeping the same times as them.

Never had any friends, boyfriends, jobs, excitement of my own.

The police psychologist didn't think it that unusual that I ended up on a criminal career path, he told the court it was inevitable given the strange upbringing....

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