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I know ...

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But here it was, Friday afternoon with Deborah checking MySpace for interesting bulletins or messages before she made some weekend plans, finding a blog from Fred posted that same morning with two simple sentences. "I know. I've known for a long time.

1958-1961

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In those years, you and I were told to leap for a world suffused with sound and industry.

Building Furniture Houses

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“Let me in,” I begged. “No. Get back stinky feet.” “I washed them.”

Forbidden Fruit

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After my vasectomy, I got a T-shirt with a picture of an orange on it. It said "All Juice, No Seeds."

Fun Times at the Memorial Park

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Good times, underground.

Wire

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“We know you’re in there, motherfucker. Step out, slowly, and we might keep you fit for an open casket funeral."

Everything to do with you

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I don't know, I could go on all day with these little niches he found in every person that made them at least a little interesting. Everyone collects baseball cards.

Hello and Thank You!

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She didn’t think of herself as an undesirable, no, she didn’t, but did find herself cowering in face of the presumed judgment of those around her. They had more money, more clout, more everything.

Corkscrewing.

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[SOME PEOPLE ARE BETTER THAN OTHERS.]

Gifts for Bonnie & Charlie

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Jojo dolls & basketballs a mindflex & pick-up sticks Parcheesi and—no, not Parcheesi a supersoaker, a Care Bear

Diary

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Ivan was used to explosions, but this was high in the sky. He was on his back between tall sunflowers that grew infinitely in all directions. The blast made the flowers bow their heads. Bits of debris fell from the blue sky, some shiny, trailing fire or smoke. The boy…

Caster Knox

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Caster had always imagined the Consensus as a big room, as big as the world, filled with white space and people with quantum wings, flitting about, creating information. There were tinted bubbles for people to share for privacy, and the lights never went

Sometimes, an audience of one is enough

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not of time, but of all the clocks/ that tick along toward the end/ of all the possibilities.

The Small Blue House

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She allowed him to wash her hair. Touching it in a wet state, running his hands through it in a soapy state, wringing the water out when he was finished—he was ecstatic.

Arcana Magi Zero + Pure - c.1

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A Nocturne, whose grey mana seeped out of it mouth, grabbed the roof of the building with its large claws. Using it as leverage, it stood itself up, hunched over, its long whale like head roared like a loud horn.

SNOWSTORM

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long lines, short words

The Way Home

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Her back turned, she wanders off searching for the way home wringing her hands, trying to think, but thoughts evade her.

Fumes

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He was choking on the fumes.

Hara-kiri

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unwrapping the gauze from her wrists....

The Tourists

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They acquire him in a bar that is famous for its shipwrecks.

Acrobats

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What a beautiful day it was, what a wonderful day to lose one's mind. This is what you think going into it, that it is all a wonderful dream come true, and sure I'll have my hands full, but at the end of the day it will be worth something. If I hang in long enough,…

Fealty

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I wander toward the midnight dock a neon sine curve stabs my eyes

The 5 Senses of the Apocalypse

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The Rapture comes and goes unannounced in carbonated soda bubbles spicing the air.

Gluttony

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I become the accumulation/ of appetites

The Apartment House

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Everybody called her The Crier because from time to time we would hear her crying.

Windfall

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It turned out Eel’s brain corrects for imbalance, and he can only feel danger for a moment or two.

Oh, Baby!

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One of the drunk men, a dear friend, hunk, as he updated me, now living the existence of a poet, called from San Francisco to say he would take the plane to Minneapolis, do it, then leave me to raise the baby.

Txt msging

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Forty years later he was still her Romeo, she his Juliet.

Valentine

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"His middle name is Valentine, and when asked about it, he isn't sure why."

Shim

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better than being dead