"This is it?" Leila said with a wrinkled nose, her hands were clasped behind her back as she slowly approached the animal.

Myron stared at the blue ribbon sitting in a bow on the back of her head, eclipsing her dark brown tresses like an enormous butterfly. His eyes traveled down to her feet and the way her calves flexed as she walked on her toes around the creature.

"I wasn't lying, was I?"

"Dunno," Leila replied, and she hopped on a crate, her lanky, boyish form backlit by golden rays. It shone through her hair, making it more like...

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This is not what Steve had in mind when he signed up to test the virtual reality technology at work. Not at all. He thought it would be unicorns farting rainbows. But this was ridiculous.

The scenes were patterned after video games. Not because the team wasn't creative, but because that meant the testers didn't need to take the time to learn the rules of a new environment.

Steve had pulled Super Mario Bros. from the lot. Except there was a fatal flaw in the technology. Enemies didn't die, they just disappeared for a bit. Then they came back with...

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Chaz and Elinor tear-ass through the forest, hands raised ineffectually above heads, sodden shoes slapping on undergrowth, alternately laughing and yelling "Ow. Ow. Ow!"

The hailstorm pelts them from above, chunks of ice the size of large coins, not nickle-and-dimeing today but quartering and Susan B. Anthonying. Chaz gets a Kennedy fiftycent piece to the top of the skull and takes a header, facefirst into the soggy pine needles below.

"I think that one actually trepanned me," he shouts.

"What? Get up!" Elinor hauls him to his feet and they keep running.

The tent, they're sure, is just over this...

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Mannequin legs hanging from the wall. Nailed by the heels, they create the effect of being suspended in space. I don't know why I did it, but somehow, they comfort me being there, detached from all body and context, the pink ballet shoes seamlessly blending into the leggings and the beige wall. This is my world, this is the inside of my mind - a single flat line, drab, unstimulating. Seeing more vibrant colors, seeing the artificiality of "beauty," seeing a well-crafted world - nothing makes me more angry. My nothing is a word unto itself.

Ben and Jessica are...

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Iridescent, the water moved silently over her head as her toes grazed the soft sand beneath her. In an equilibrium, almost floating but almost standing, she let the water raise her arms. This was limbo.

People always said it was best to keep your feet on the ground, so to speak. When the mind wanders, ideas get lost. Was that the way it really worked, the woman wondered, exhaling and releasing small bubbles of her life-breath into the water. The bubbles traveled upward to the surface, releasing her breath for her over her head. It was true, water made you...

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I'm with stupid. That's what his t-shirt says. the arrow points at me, because I always walk on his left. People read it and look at us and laugh. They don't know that he doesn't wear it for jokes and giggles. He means it. He always wears it when we go out together, which is only once a week. He allows me to do the weekly shopping with him. He makes the list but I have to carry it, because he always pushes the trolley.

Somewhere deep down I know he's a control freak and I should break away. Amy's...

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I was reading a great book when the words turned to sand. A hole opened up on the page and the words drained through, and I, engrossed in the plot, followed them.

When I awoke everything was different. But just slightly so. My alarm clock's red letters were blue. My green-striped sheets were now blue striped. The knobs on my dresser had turned from square to oval. My fat tabby cat was a calico.

The stuff was all there, it was just the details were mixed up. It was like a sketch artist had recreated my room based on a...

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He heaved a sigh as he walked down the hallway. The revolver hung heavy in his hand. He had no idea what model or brand or whatever the gun was supposed to be. He'd gotten it at a pawn shop for $15, along with a little blue soldier toy for a mere 50 cents. It was cheap. The paint on the toy was chipped, but its expression of determination haunted him.

He was exhausted. He was done. He couldn't take this any longer.

"Hey, kiddo..." He called. He'd reached his son's room. This was probably the first time they'd talked...

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I was all wrong. This wasn't the spot I thought we buried her. Jason was in front of me pointing left, and the sky was darkening. My mind was all over the fucking place. He's pointing left, when I swear we buried her right by this patch of weird leaves that looked like lettuce. Still, Jason swore that we needed to head left more. Really, when you commit such a crime, and forget where you buried the body, needing to go back to get it because you "accidentally" left the weapon right by the body, possibly with your prints... going...

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He laid back, eyes closed, a smile stretched across his face. Summer never felt so good; the sun beating down made him relaxed, and he felt like he could sprawl out on the grass all day long.

With eyes closed, his mind drifted to summers past, lying on the grass with his dog Buddy after catching a frisbee back and forth. His mind was in another place, somewhere peaceful, simple, romantic even.

A place where the sun rises and sets with beautiful colors, where the grass is plush and Kelly Green. A place where the sailboats against the sunset have...

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