Malcolm's coo became a cry.

The child peeked into the cardboard box, vexation clearly etched etched upon his face. "What's the matter, little bird?" he asked, reaching down to stroke the wounded pigeon. His mother had warned him to stay away, that sometimes birds would bite and a wild bird like Malcolm could carry diseases. He didn't care. He wanted to stroke his back feathers, far enough back that the bird's beak couldn't reach his pudgey fingers... just in case.

"David! Stay away from that bird!" his mother called.

The boy yanked his finger back just as the pigeon lunged...

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She drove at a breakneck speed. Her sister sat in the backseat, reclined against him, eyes rolled up in awe. She turned the corner on two wheels, the screech of the tires raising demons from hell.

Halloween, an old car, her doting sister Cinderella, as stupid a princess as ever, wrapped up in the arms of a 57 year old vampire wannabe.

"HE'S 57!!!" She shouted as the car righted itself. "It's true!" her sister cooed.

"I'm sorry. 57!! and still dressed up as a vampire!"

She punched the gas on the straightaway. The green clock said 5am.

"Vampires are...

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Dressed as a blue cow-like demon, the boy started taking pictures of the wall. The camera was heavy in his small ungloved hands. When he pressed the red button on the top an audible click could be heard and helped persuade him to take as many pictures as quickly as possible to hear that sound in rapid succession.

The camera was his fathers, an old one, one that was locked up until the recent garage sell his mother had. When she got to the box labeled 'Dave's' she sat on it and cried. It was a welcomed moment and she...

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I will always remember my 10th birthday. It was the funniest day ever. everything was fine and amazing with the princess posteres over the garage walls and the tabel and my cake with disney written on it and all the colours of the rainbow. 'smile honey' my mum said moving closer towards me.
Then she fell, Forward and face first into the cake. The Party around me erupted into laughter and yelling at me 'hey liz, your mums a clutz.' they laughed even harder at that comment. I walked around the table to sea what she tripped on and guess...

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his father painted the top of the lighthouse himself. with the last concise stroke of the red paintbrush, his father had a concise stroke of his own, and slid off the roof to his death, colliding headlong into the rocky ground, and tumbling into the choppy water. his body was never found, though toby often imagine a blue man, with nibbles taken out from fish schools, and skin as loose as kelp on his bones. with equal sincerity, toby imagined that his father had not died at all, and was merely hiding in the system of caves eroding into the...

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Midnight on the roof. The roof of one of the university buildings, to be exact.
"We've made it," he says. I nod, still woozy from the ascent.
It's dark, but I can make out his features by the light of the moon, and even if it was pitch-black, I would be able to hear the smile in his voice, the pride that comes from deep inside one's chest. When did I start paying this much attention to the way he spoke? It doesn't matter. What matters is that we're here, we've climbed this wall with our own strength and our...

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"What is it you have to do again?"

Richard pointed at the screen. "You have to get the butterflies to land on that tree."

"Which one, the one on the left?"

"No," he said, "the other one, the little one."

His son crossed his arms. "Dad, this game is so lame! I don't see how you could have played this thing. The graphics suck!"

"Hey, this is 16-bit resolution! You should have seen some of the old 8-bit side-scrolling games. The graphics on them were even worse, but they were all we had. And do you hear those sound effects?"...

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The bird landed. A thunder clapped. A dog barked and the bird opened a pocket on its vest.

Peering through a telescope, the yellow bird surveyed 360 degrees of the town square.

All along the square doors slammed and windows shuttered.

All but the doors of the saloon, which are more like shutters, really. Do saloons even have doors?

The bird shook its feathers. Focus.

From beneath the saloon shutters rolled a woman in pantaloons and suspenders and a blousy black turtleneck. She held in her hands two baskets, their covers carefully latched.

Kneeling in the street Liza double and...

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"WOO HOO!!!"

Avat's heart raced as he tore through space in the Drakon II, his brother and the rest of their squad behind him. He ran his fingers along the control pad and the shuttle rotated quickly until he was "upside down" relative to the others. "Easy there Hot Shot," Vish chided. "This isn't a race. The controls just need a light touch."

Avat cursed under his breath. "Understood," he said louder and easily righted his ship. The Drakon, named for its resemblance to the beast of ancient mythology, and moved effortlessly in the vacuum of space, sending data directly...

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Deep beneath our feet lies a maze of tunnels, crypts, secret passages, large and small pipes, cables, each layer added over the centuries dependent on current needs. For most of us we would only consider water pipes from the bathroom, utility wires, sewage. Our ancestors needed secret ways to travel undetected, our enemies wanted places to hide.

Jim looked down at the blueprint of the basement, the house renovation had taken far too long. The cellar in the right hand corner didn't seem to exist anymore all he could find was a rusty metal trunk full of strange photos, black...

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