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Ghost Drops

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Waiting is easy for me. I put on a Beethoven sonata, the Pathétique, and emptied my mind of all thoughts until the silver notes were all my consciousness held. I ate, slept, drank coffee, observed the moon rise over this great city, and felt peace in my heart for the first time in a year. I had no hatred in my heart for Sandy; the fox doesn’t hate the groundhog; he just knows all the groundhog knows and that makes him one-up on his prey.

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Bullet Proof Boots

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I was hanging in the air watching old Mr Turner saddle his horse when my internal alarm chimed.

He had slept the night out on the high plain and time being elastic here I had stayed with him. My main purpose was to reinforce his belief that he was wearing bullet proof boots but the environment he had conjured up was so breathtaking that I had spent most of the time just gazing at the stars glinting against the deep blue of the night sky.

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Ignominy

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His fists felt like sledgehammers. Thank God he was holding back some, but I couldn’t let on I was grateful. I could brace for impact when I catch a glimpse of the monster’s chiseled jaw clench and powerful body wind up, but I didn’t know where he was going to land the blow. Besides, he had a knack for mixing it up, keeping it a guessing game.

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Daughter of the Moon

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The moon cast its pale glow over the forest of Fenlock illuminating the eyes of the creatures that dwelled within. Mist intermingled with the trees giving moss just enough moisture to creep over every surface in the wood. Unsettling noises broke the silence of night in the trees, but seldom was there anyone around to hear it. Tales of the forest of Fenlock were well known to any folk living even remotely near the region.
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Nothing

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“What do you want for breakfast, Jan?”

“Nothing, mom, I’m already late. Nothing, thanks.”

Alison’s daughter hurried past her mother, snatching up her school books from the kitchen table. “I have a late class this evening, my English final. I’m meeting Barb for some last minute cramming.” She yawned and grabbed a breakfast bar.

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A Light Bulb Called Tink

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“This is more than just a bloody mid life crisis,” Karen said clutching a tattered red book, until her knuckles started going white. She savagely threw the book onto the chequered dining cloth, and ran her hands through her untamed hair.

“Oi, mind the biccies,” her best friend, Tina, said.

“I don’t know what to do anymore; he spends all his time in the garage doing, God knows what.”

“He’s making a rocket,” a small voice said behind her.

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Session One

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Why are doctors, specialist—anyone in the medical field, really, so highly regarded? They lie for money, like, the entire government. Aren’t they all criminals? Therapists, psychologists—all of them. They don’t solve problems, because people still die rapidly, and crazy people still roam. Who do these people save? What do they prevent? Certainly not suicide victims like my father.

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Charlotte's Web

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Brad looked completely exhausted as he fell through the front door, his arms full of  overflowing manilla folders.  Every day it was the same story.  He left home before the sun rose and returned after dark only to continue his work after a quick dinner and a couple of words with his long suffering wife.

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Two Junkies

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Tom pulled the needle out his arm as the tourniquet loosened allowing the heroin to flow freely into his veins. "We’re gonna be rich soon," he said as the high began to hit him.

"No we're not," I replied. Just then a needle enter my vein, but maybe a little too deep as some blood shot up. Even on my ghostly white arm I could not find good veins anymore. I didn’t have the body of someone in their mid-twenties. It didn't matter though as all my worries immediately went away as the high hit me. "You’re right, we're gonna be rich soon."

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I Have My Addictions

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They’ve questioned what happened that winter night. “Why did she turn to drugs?” “What caused her death?” “What was her mindset?” The media plastered it all over the newspapers “another young drug related death” in an attempt to sell my story for the price of the black and white paper. My parents wept in a televised plea for an Antidrug Campaign. “We didn’t know what was going on. We knew she was going to a party but we had no idea she was involved with drugs”

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