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Burning Point

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I expelled a scream as my friend Erin and I happened to be standing in my bedroom at the moment. “You can’t do this. I thought we were friends.”

She tugged at the sides of her blazer. “Watch me, Stephanie.”

My heart thumped inside my chest, getting louder with each passing second. “You don’t understand because there’s a lot that you don’t know. There’s no reason for you to do this.”

I rolled my eyes. “Like I give a fuck.”


Inquisitor Kern

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Inquisitor Gregor Ezekyle Kern watched his two burly escorts drag the soulless heathen kicking and screaming from her disgusting hovel. Kern leafed through the Latin-inscribed book in his hands and stopped on the cleansing scripture, a simple verse all inquisitors use when cleansing the world of filth.

The two men forced the witch onto her knees in front of Kern. Tears streamed down her face. “Please. I’ve done nothing wrong. Mercy, sir. I beg you. Mercy.”


How to Brighten the Night

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There was a time, not so long ago, when the night was very dark.  There were no stars, planets, or moon to light the night sky.   Once the sun went down, people would stay inside unable to venture out; not because they were afraid of the dark; dark is not scary.  It was just hard to see, easy to trip and fall, or lose one’s way.  There were no streetlights, because there was no electricity. 


Vince Domino, King of Smut

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As Tough Johnny Rolls (his words) remembers it:

It was the beginning of summer in 1954 when Vince Domino returned to the East New York. His thirteen year stretch at Sing Sing was over. No parole for Vince, he did the full tilt. He’s no rat, he kept his mouth shut.

What other choice did he have? Maybe like Kid Twist, the rat star witness who agreed to talk and took a ten story “fall” out of a window while being secretly “protected” by the cops at the Half Moon Hotel in Coney Island.

Forgetabout it!

They had Kid Twist, but they didn’t have Vince, they’d never have Vince for any Murder charge, but if they ever did, he still would not squeal. He would happily go to old sparky with honor and dignity. His mantra: “I don’t give nobody up.”


Run, Cecily, Run

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I trekked deeper and deeper into the forest while the frigid air smacked me in the face, sneaking inside my lungs, as it almost drowned me.

The hairs on my back pricked up, making me whirl around for a second.

Nobody was there.

I shook my head again before shuffling through more of the forest and almost scoffed since it wasn’t like I could use magic to escape. That would attract unwanted attention, and there were already enough problems with the wanted posters of me that were propped up on all the trees in the forest in addition to everywhere else.


Valentine Inc

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Susie Adams was a short girl with a fair bit more than she’d like around the middle, although at age fourteen she still lived in hope that her growth spurt was coming on any day now. She also had a particularly nasty case of asthma that caused her to miss school days and left her with too much time on her hands.

It took her six months to hack into Valentine Inc., the world’s premier dating site. As Valentine Inc. had gradually taken over as almost the only means of dating, many people had tried to game the system, but Susie had two advantages over the multitude: a brilliant brain that spent too much time cooped up, and a father who worked for the company and kept his password taped underneath his desk.


French Prostitutes Collective

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‘Are these men paying you for sex?’  The nurse said.

I considered her question.

‘No.’ I eventually said.  I’d saved up all my Franks for a private health screening and I wasn’t about to blow it now.  I even had my best dress on.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have told her the exact number.

I’d counted the men, I was responsible.

She pursed her lips and carried on.

‘So, 16 in the last three months, and you see six of them on a casual basis?’

I nodded.

It looked bad.  But then it was... well it wasn’t bad.  It was what it was.


From the Zone with Love

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“Look,” BannaLinda said, “I want only one.”

The R-Agent shook its head, emitting the characteristic faint clinking sound that agent-robots make in motion.

“Sorry,” it said.  “Not allowed.  I’d lose my job.”

“You don’t have a job, moron,” said BannaLinda, “you’re an idiotic machine with a lowest-bidder program. I’d kick you to molecules right now, but I’m wearing new shoes.”

The R-Agent calmly ignored both insult and threat.

“Your scheduled mating season begins in exactly 27 months.  Be advised that the usual incentives and penalties will apply.”


Eerie Landing

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Dan Fletcher and Cindy Oster laughed as they drank another Keystone beer from the cooler inside the hatch of the Honda Fit.  Both were 16 and had taken the beer to a somewhat secluded area of the Erie Canal just outside the rural town of Clinton Landing.  It was a popular site for Buffalo, NY area high school students to drink.  The scattered beer cans next to the car confirmed that others had recently been to the same spot.  Neither Dan or Cindy cared about the filth lying around them.

“You know what Cindy?” Dan said as he finished his Keystone.  “We should swim in the canal.”

Cindy looked perplexed at the suggestion.  “We didn’t bring swimsuits Dan.”

“Who needs suits?”


The Rooms are Wrong

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Wasn't it just daylight outside? Or maybe I'm thinking of earlier... The house seems to have changed or am I imagining it? Did someone slip me something? I....feel wrong. This house feels wrong. Walking down this corridor I'm trying to remember what's the same and hold on to that. The wallpaper is a sickly yellow color with a bland floral print. Definitely not with the times. And the ceiling is an off white. Like it's dimmed by the environment. Like it wants to be brighter but can't. I guess even houses sometimes wish they could be what they're not. There's no light. Except the daylight peeking in from the rooms on the left side. Oh wait, there's no daylight. What am I thinking of? But how can I still see? It's storming now. There's the puttering of rain and I hear restrained thunder. It's powerful but not out of control.


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