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The Hotel Welcome Book

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The Atlantic View Hotel over-looked the sea in the beautiful and mysterious village of Tintagel, Cornwall, home to the legendary King Arthur.

The hotel - 18th century, still retained its character from this period: the white brick exterior, solid oak beeswax-polished furniture and old black and white photos of local Cornish fishermen and their wives – their faces stern and hard.

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The First Fit

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I remember great swathes of articles in the free press that were dead against it. But the government rags? Well, of course they would be for it! You have to remember the great problems facing us at that time. Poverty, disease, famine, overpopulation to count but a few. What we were proposing to do, if it could be done, would have opened up a whole new world not dependent on food, fuel, shelter or heat. What we were proposing to do was to redefine man himself.

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Revelations Part 1

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“Imagine you are in a very dark room; a cellar” the undertaker tried to explain. His deep doom-laden voice brought a slight chill to cosy living room of the vicarage. The way his tone rumbled with the rich eloquence of a classical education mixed with a delicate blend of sympathy and depression was fabulously macabre, Nigel Timmis mused.

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Whispers in the Dark

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Years of being locked away from the world had completely removed any aspects of normality from the girl’s brain. The side effects of loneliness had enveloped her mind long before her sanity had crumbled to pieces before the doctor’s eyes. She was now more like the part of the world that, if kept in the dark and pretended it wasn’t there, it was easier to go on living with a clear conscience.
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Remedy

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The smell of death hung heavy and pungent in the air. Sickness touched the skin and covered it in a dewy glow that in any other situation could have been attractive.

Castellan held a scented handkerchief over her nose as she walked through the village to the church.

There were many people already on the steps by the time she got there but they did not jostle for front of queue. None of them even stood within arm's reach of each other. All their eyes focused on the closed doors, Castellan's included.

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Guess Who

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To live is to die and to die is to live; no truer words have been spoken. I, but not you, know what mask I own. Perchance, you may figure in the course of my epilogue my true face, or, you may find yourself contemplating for quite some time to follow. I will never reveal, for I play tricks, I play fools, and the conundrum you face from me, shall be nectar I will suckle on till I find more sweet fruit.
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Revelations Part 2

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In her more self-pitying moments - usually after finishing a bottle of wine - Penny Flame found she possessed a remarkable ability to blame just about everything that had gone wrong in her life entirely on her parents. Her mother had the uncanny knack of finding fault in absolutely everything she did from her Christmas nativity performances to only getting a 2:1 in her degree. Her father on the other hand; a serial womaniser, had been absent for long periods of her childhood. He had at least three affairs that she knew of before her mother finally threw him out for good.

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Big is Better

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Harry Dobson, PhD, ate lunch with fellow microbiologist, Jane Foster in the company cafeteria. They sat at a table in the back of the cafeteria and spoke quietly so that they could speak without being overheard. "Jane, what if I told you I have developed a chemical that I think could do what the microscope can't do?"

"I don't understand. What do you mean do what the microscope can't do?"

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The House With The Dolls

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I would often ride past the large house on the corner of the long, windy country road. Every time I rode past it, I would glance up at the balcony at all the dolls that were in there.

One day, I had a puncture right outside the large secluded house, and I had forgotten my puncture kit.

I looked up at the black painted balcony and all the dolls. They were brightly coloured with pigtails and of various shapes and sizes. I stood there for a moment mesmerised by the dolls; there was something not quite right.

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The Doll

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Hayden had gotten the doll in the mail. She didn’t know who it was from, seeing as there was no name on the box and no return address. The doll was beautiful. It stood three feet tall and had long dark brown hair. Its blue eyes looked far too real in her porcelain face. The doll's features had been made to give her a delicate and pleasant countenance.

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