Please do not ask me to write some fluffy SciFi romance. Nothing will have changed by 2070. I will probably still be alive, I will probably still have this fucking job.

Remember when you hired me, based on the screenplay in my application? I worked hard on Zilly and Jack. For years, my every step was fueled by the thought of Zilly and Jack seamlessly executed on a Broadway stage. (A production, I mean, not a beheading.)

"Such wit!" you exclaimed. "Such cutting-edge quirks! We love the way Zilly listens to movie soundtracks while she studies BioChem! Dun Dun DUN!"...

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Deluxe hotel, the brochure said. Apartment sized-rooms. You get your own little kitchen and living room and bedroom. A slightly smaller, more luxurious, home away from home.

The brochure didn't say anything about being woken up in the middle of the night by panicked pounding on the door.

I swung my feet over the side, and moved over the thick carpet to the door. I rubbed the sleep away from one eye and then put it to the spyhole. The pounding had stopped and I saw her, small and naked and covered in streaking blood. She slid slowly down the...

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She'd always come running when I called, my little sister.

She was three years younger than I was, but to her, I was big brother, father, and something close to God. I kept her and our little brother safe from our mother, I tutored her in math when she realized it wasn't her best subject, I bought them both little cupcakes for their birthdays when we all knew Mother couldn't be bothered with spending money on anything other than booze, and I'm the one who broke down and went to the principal for free lunches when they joined me in...

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The bird sat on the branch, looking at the moon. There was a whole bunch of cloud closing in on the bird. "Cah," the bird said, because he was a crow.

The bird flew away and started flying around. It got bored from flying, so it perched on an airplane. Problem is the plane was operating and birdie flies into the engine. Swish! Crunch! Feathers everywhere! Blood everywhere!

I was sittin on the roof of my car. Saw the whole darn thing through my binoculars. It did not make me happy. So I pick up my phone and call Aunt...

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Dear Sarah

She didn't look at him. That's why I know that she was lying. I know that maybe I ought to say something but how can I hurt my daughter with that kind of news. Joanne has been more like a sister than a best friend so should have known better than to act like that. I am telling you truthfully Sarah, but I feel like killing her. Really.

Lara will be devestated and after the miscarriage it might send her back to the psychiatric hospital, I'll do whatever it takes to stop that happening. Do you remember what...

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He rain into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet.
"What happened to you?" I asked
"We gotta go now! There's no time to waste!"
"Jack, what are you talking about? Are you being chased by some random stranger to be killed or something?"
"Yes, Kary. That is exactly what's happening! Now we need to go, NOW!!!"
I ran to my room and filled a back pack with clothes when I hear my door explode open. I rush out to what happened and see my brother laying on the ground with a stranger pointing a gun at...

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It was white. That was something that was abnormal about the entire situation. What was not something that one thought of when being beaten.

He wondered if perhaps it was heaven trying to tell him that he was closer than he though. He hoped that it was finally the light at the end of the tunnel, but when the next blow from the stick hit him across the back, he knew he had no such luck.

A small well of blood slowly came up his throat. It almost felt like a terrible hiccup to him. One of those hiccups that...

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Taste was one of those things that was meant to be very personal, and yet everyone seemed to recognise bad taste.

The joke may have been ill-timed, but she maintained that it wasn't in "bad taste" - soon finding herself in the minority (one, in fact).

Fine. Fine, fine, fine - he would've laughed, if he'd been there. Then again, him not being there was the entire point.

He would've laughed at that, too.

It was a nice, warm day, and that was ridiculous - funerals were meant to be full of rain and the dark and thunder and the...

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It's ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. STOP it from ringing!

Karla never wanted to hear his voice again. Never wanted to hear that damn ring of the public phone at on the corner of East and Cherry. Never wanted to wait again; to see if he'd call, usually he wanted money. Always for drugs. Drug money. Meth money. That idiot, he was killing himself, and now he wanted their son. Brian wouldn't even look at Gray when he came to the lobby of their high rise, his dad was always high, red-eyed, and stumbling. They used the pay phone in case...

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The red, white and black jacket hovered mysteriously outside my bedroom window, under the old tree. It had been there for about a week, and it didn't appear to be going anywhere any time soon. By the way, what's black and white, and read all over?

I asked my dad about the jacket, and he told me that it was something I'd just have to get used to.

"But why is it there?"

"It just is, son."

"Have you seen it here before?"

"No, I haven't."

"Doesn't it strike you as sort of... odd?"

"Not really."

Throughout the entire conversation,...

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