Heather had never found her talent.

The smallest amount of knitting made her arms feel like they'd fall from her shoulders. Her paintings looked like they'd been crafted by a toddler. Even decoupage, just gluing paper onto things to decorate them, seemed beyond her reach; in every project the images were wrinkled and unattractive. What was she doing wrong? Time and time again she struggled to release her creative genius, the one she had been told lived inside each and every person, but evidently she preferred to stay hidden deep inside.

Standing on the bridge, she watched the churning waters...

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He sat in the truck parked on the gravel drive, his arm hanging out the window, a cigarette dangling from his finger. The radio was on and Bon Jovi's Bed of Roses was blaring.

She watched him from the behind the closed screen door.

He lowered the visor so she wouldn't be able to see his reddened eyes. Def Lepard's Pour Some Sugar On Me came on next, and he tweaked the volume nob. He could tell she was still looking at him.

He finished his cigarette and flicked it out the window. He took a long drink from the...

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The dream had been wonderful, yet it would never be real.The first thing I did was tweet about it; hundreds of retweets showed I'd hit a nerve. Me, Christine, a twitter phenomenon. And all because I shared my dream (nightmare? No. Dream) of an ex-girlfriend becoming infected during the zombie apocalypse. Undead everywhere, and amongst them the bitch, at last, letting me have the final word.

Wish fulfillment with a chain saw, definitely severing our relationship. It had gone to her head. You had to hand it to her. Even with the plague, I still (for a moment) thought about...

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"She'd have preferred the electric chair," Melanie said.

A half grin sat on her lips as she stirred the crinkle fry in the ketchup far longer than anyone stirs crinkle fries in ketchup.

"You know when they were discovering the electric chair, they would like pay kids to bring in stray dogs and cats to electrocute to get the voltage just right," Beloved said.

"That's horrible," Melanie replied and she dropped the crinkle fry. "Why would you say that?"

"They finally tested it on an elephant!" Beloved said.

"Wait, who is they?" Melanie asked. She lifted her nose in the...

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Absent.

He sat right at the front, but would never once look up at the board all while knowing full well the snippy teacher would think him rude. He would only doodle inside his beat-up notebook he'd kept since seventh grade, and I would never know what exactly it was he was so intent on drawing.

It's a project, he would say.

He is not here today. He and I do not interact much, but I know he is beautiful. He is beautiful and I have loved him since I laid eyes on him. I have loved him and loved...

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They gathered in the woods. The darkness entwined itself around everything it touched. Filling every hole, every space it could claim.

It was not the darkness that was so frightening, it was that which hide inside. Using it as a clever camouflage.

Something hid, something stalked and watched and he could feel it. It was looking at him, watching and waiting. Its gaze crawling across his skin like tiny spiders.

He hid within himself not wanting to accept it. He built up the layers to keep the darkness out. He would not fear the thing in the dark. he would...

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The elephant dragged it's feet leaving sandy clouds of gritty dust in its wake. Behind the elephant a group of half naked woman shook their tambourines and threw spectacular colours of powder around. The colours merged like a flour rainbow. I wondered where my mother had gone and imagined that she had been swallowed up in this multi coloured whirlwind.
I needn't have worried. There she was bending over the twin tub, her hair scraped back, her muscular arms winding the mangle in a slow, precise action. She turned to me and smiled. My heart leapt. She very rarely smiled....

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Raisins are evil. They just don't belong... anywhere really. They're grapes that couldn't make it and have a second chance as rai-sins... that's right. Sins. You read it right. You have to admit that it's pretty strange that sins is right there in raisins. They're evil little wanna bes that wreak havok on all things good and wholesome. Cinnamon buns for instance. What's worse in a cinnamon bun than raisins? Nothing! Raisins are the poops of the fruit world! And they end up in your cinnamon bun like little turds. Little fruit turds that have to be picked around and...

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what to do in the gutter
with your mind all aflutter

one could tie their shoe
or sniff glue

you could clip your nails
or make trails

i could learn to flip it
or just do a whippit

he could switch his socks
or sleep with a fox

she could play with pip
or learn to nip

they could read a book
or just get hooked

whatever it is they you or i decide to do
be quick
there are only so many minutes
to

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She stared down into the shallow pond from where she stood on the banks, and sighed. There was world just below the broken surface of the water, a world that she longed to understand. The lillypads floating on the surface seemed to hide their world from hers, but she knew better. The world below, it was alive and well. It was something that she could feel, from the tips of her fingers, up her arms and across her heart, and all throughout her entire body.

All she had to do was jump.

Though the pond was only a foot or...

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