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“You’d be a lot more popular if you’d tell happier stories.”
“Tell that to Stephen King and all the serial killer authors. What happy little stories do you remember?”
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Stop in truck stops, browsing cassette bins; Creedence Clearwater Revival, Simon and Garfunkel, golden oldies from back before you were born. T-shirts and coffee cups with logos of the nearest city hanging off metal hooks in white Formica pin board. The r
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I'm old enough to be her father.
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But you don’t know how to fly, Bunny! How ever will we survive?
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Swords of Romeby Christopher Lee BucknerHello readers,The following is chapter Two of my Roman epic, Swords of Rome. The book is available to buy on Amazon: A special limited time offer of $0.99 for Kindle readers, and $14.99 for…
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There are several people I do not care for much at all—annoying cretins, blasé philistines, or godawful narcissuses—and I do not care much for caring about such people when I encounter them, which unfortunately happens quite often like some cruel lottery where I…
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Everybody needs a flaw or two. It builds character.
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“Lady, you want me to take a drug that will give me a permanent hard-on while I'm here in prison? You are joking! You think I want some drooling troglodyte cutting my dick off and feeding it to me in a hotdog bun?”
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“My god, Al, you're gray. Oh, no! You're going bald!” She laughed again, louder this time, and reached to grab what was left of my hair. I pulled back and grabbed her wrist. I let it go.
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“Who are you?” I ask in a panic. “What have I done wrong? Where are you taking me?”
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His mind barely functioning, acting on instinct, he lumbered forward with a mission.
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Whenever Mommy was gone, Josh Forcett's father made him eat staples, often by the spoonful.
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“You look pretty good for a zombie, Joan.” I tried to keep from smiling, and failed. She did look good. Chestnut hair, dyed, of course, and some age lines in her face, but...
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Madison was not stupid, just uncultured. She knew nothing of England, but decided to travel from New York to Warwickshire to see Shakespeare's grave. She hoped to capture some sort of magic from seeing the playwright's tomb...
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I’m strapped down by several strangers.
‘What are you going to do with me?’ I thought.
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