1540 10 3
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1540 3 1
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When our body falters, deny us rest.
When our minds crack under the strain, forbid us sanity.
When we are too tired to fight give us war.
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1540 7 5
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I am no different to her, living seven days ahead
of myself, looking forward to looking back,
as we Irish do so fondly
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1540 8 5
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We will collapse in a storm of images
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1540 0 0
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A month before the real flowers came, amputated trees for 31 miles were festooned with pink blossoms. The petals were tufts of Fiberglass insulation shorn from houses incapable of withstanding 260-mph winds -- more than twice the punch Katrina delivered t
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1539 11 1
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Eat me so I can sink in your mouth, my paper fraying along the sharp topography of your tongue, lodging in the holes where your teeth used to be. There, I will storm an infection until your mouth inks my words.
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1539 14 10
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The knees remind you: you are old,/
and broken, and unlikely to improve
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1539 2 2
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Tomorrow, they'd bury their daughter . . . and still, so many questions. Why would a beautiful fourteen-year-old choose for herself such a horrible, painful death? In life, she appeared the antithesis of suicidal ideation: excellent grades, well-liked in school and…
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1539 2 1
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Funny, funny stuff. She'll be here all week--be sure and tip your speech therapist!
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1539 5 4
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Christmas night was closing in at the Cantrips alehouse in Aberdeen, a firm favourite for riggers and other men and women who lived life close to the horizon. Sometimes, on a Saturday night, things might get a bit rowdy but Mother O'Grady would stand firm and bring out…
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1539 3 2
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She flew through the air, linen skirt billowing around her. Below, her buckled bicycle was taking a different route. Less aerodynamic than she, its trajectory was brief, crashing into the ditch. Elspeth kept on flying. Time slowed, and expanded
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1539 3 3
|
ABSOLUTELY DO NOT TAKE PICTURES OF ROBOTS!
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1539 2 0
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You held my hand when I hit the ground and told me the shakes would start soon.
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1539 2 1
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Father hands Billy a length of rope. Billy builds his resolve, fights back his tears, heads into the kitchen. It's time to become a man.
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1539 11 10
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That won’t kill me, will it? I asked. Maybe, the doctor said.
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1539 5 4
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If I do not hear you leaving by the door... The nearness here of this yet questions when I know you will not come so back again, Nowise the same as you were there before. My own reflection, centred at its core On knowing each …
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1539 10 9
|
Margaret will take her seven away from his raging Irish hammers slurry Saturday night honks smashing red eyes. They'll board a secret train countryside bound where they sing the songs of her own dead Mam who lived poor in the world but…
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1539 5 3
|
Buyers of freelance writing have a well-deserved reputation for responding slowly, thereby increasing your pleasure in much the same way that the Pointer Sisters longed for a slow hand.
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1539 14 10
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A woman posted a story on Fictionaut about discovering that her husband was a werewolf.
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1539 0 0
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Megumi paused for a moment, understanding Mrs. Akamatsu’s concern, but looking back at the Society, she shook her head in rejection.
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1539 5 5
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We pull up chairs. I breathe in her Bath and Body Works vanilla, read her paper slowly and aloud because the ears catch what the eyes miss. Her sentences are awkward, stilted.
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1539 14 0
|
“I was just dreaming about you,” he said, sleepy-voiced. “What's for breakfast?”
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1539 6 1
|
I do not know what zinzins is, what a zinzins is, who zinzins is.
I do not want to know
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1539 8 6
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Although I think we can easily work it out because we are not here in the Yale graduate school, and diction is the theme of the story. Diction is a choice in language.
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1539 3 1
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The blackout lasted longer than anyone thought. From my fifth story window, the whole city seemed to shut down. I heard noises above me. How could it be?
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1538 11 4
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He is leaning back against a pillar watching the dancing; a spectator to joy – both planned and spontaneous – that’s unfolding in bodies fourteen and fifteen years old in front of him.
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1538 3 2
|
We’re not like a lot of your fly-by-night disease-based charities. Every pence we raise goes directly to St. Bartholomew’s, where 90% of it ends up in the pockets of doctors so they can buy expensive horses.
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1538 2 1
|
The elders of the town will tell you that as soon the prophet mill arrived everything went to Hell. Before the process was streamlined, prophets used to be grown organically in the community. They popped up only where the ground was tilled and a prayer was planted. They…
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1538 1 1
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It was two days to town. His horse could only go one.
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1538 21 12
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He would not take Prozac and talked Jesus to her as if from a bucket.
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