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Two Minutes

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Time. 10:19 p.m. South Florida. The traffic light rests at red for an eternity, mocking me with its condescending gaze.  I quickly turned my head both directions, not a car in sight for what it seemed to be miles.  Is this some kind of joke?  Looking into the rear view mirror, nothing there by me.  James Montgomery. Glasses, brown hair, green sweater vest, and an untrimmed beard.  Some people say I resemble a young Robin Williams from Good Will Hunting.  I’ll take that as a compliment. A journalist of ten years at the same section in the local newspaper. The only thing I’ve done differently in the time span is learn Spanish.

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A New Beginning

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Sarah Dunn, a thirty-five-year-old teacher, sat on the examining table as the doctor explained her situation.  “Sarah, I know why you’ve been feeling so awful lately. The tests show that you have a degenerative muscle disease. I have to be blunt. The weakness is going to increase. Eventually, probably in a year, the weakness will make it difficult for you to do ordinary tasks. There are medications to slow the process, and exercise will help.

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A Change of Heart

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Scott Dashwood was a handsome boy of 13, growing up in the eastern suburbs of Cleveland.  Just a month shy of this 14th birthday, Scott had been working all summer at the local golf course to earn spending money for his freshman year in high school.  He anticipated high school with dread, fearful of being one of the new boys on campus, exposed to the normal teasing and taunting present at Woodrow Wilson High.

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Goodbye Rose

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When I think about my Rose, I picture her on our wedding day. I will never forget the way her amber eyes glistened through the lacework of her veil like the sun piercing through puffy white clouds. How her thick, ebony hair fell in waves against her frosted gown and was as dauntless as her character and as dominant as the night’s sky. My hands were damp from nervous sweat. My knees were untrustworthy. I gazed into the fire of her eyes through prisms of joyful tears.

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The Sun and The Moon

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From their conception they have constantly been a great distance from each other, but they had always been able to communicate. Like most love stories they started out slow and shy. Stolen glances here and small smiles there. But as time progressed their interaction became bolder, conversations began go on and on, they were not constrained by time, they were simply left to get to know each other. As their conversations grew and their bond became unbreakable the Sun became desperate.

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The Great Detective

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We are in the drawing room with the Great Detective. Everyone is assembled. All the family, the household staff, the weekend guests, anyone who has  been near this place since we found the body of poor old Aunt Charlotte last Friday evening.  It is time, it seems, for the grand finale.  This is the moment where he lines everyone up and unravels the mystery for us. This is the part where he explains exactly what has been going on, displays at great length every facet of his genius before eventually, finally pointing a finger at the murderer.

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Happpy Birthday To Me

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It was my 30th birthday and my wife, Clara, had planned a camping trip to celebrate it. She knew that I loved to camp, but she wasn’t really into it. She loved the idea of it, but not the actual process of it. My wife liked to be pampered with all of the comforts of home, so spending a week in a tent outdoors was probably the last thing she wanted to do. No cell phones, no tv, no laptops, just pure nature. I loved her for doing this for me.

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The Egg

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The wind swept across the island like a scythe.  Mary Greene sat in her dimly lit kitchen cradling her nine month old baby.  The boy mewed softly.  Mary knew the infant was hungry, but because of the inclement weather it had been impossible to reach the mainland and the food cupboards were becoming barer as each day passed.  She looked at the empty shelves and sighed wearily.  The boy had refused the weak, milky porridge she had provided for breakfast.  Would he refuse the same for his lunch?  She fervently hoped he would be hungry enough to eat it.

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Stolen

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Black hugged the night sky while rays of light shined down from the moon after the car pulled into my driveway.

I tilted my head while sitting in the front passenger seat. “Thank you for tonight, Patrick.”

He gave my hand a squeeze. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

I winked. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

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A Strange Turn of Events

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Alden Carter sat in his wheel chair and looked out his window at Lake Michigan.  Summer brought out the sun-worshipers and small and large boats that bobbed up and down on the lake's waves. Alden's wife, Millie, entered the room from the kitchen and went to her husband.  "Alden, darling, I made tuna fish sandwiches. Come into the kitchen and eat with me."

"Okay, Millie," he said and wheeled himself to the kitchen table.

Millie placed a bowl of salad on the table, and put a plate with a sandwich on it in front of Alden.

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