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How Blue is my Sapphire?

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All of us live with our past. All of us allow it to shape our future. But some of us know how to shrug the past. I think that is who I am. Maybe because of the realization, as to how unredeemable a yesterday is and as to how inevitable the future is. The present is all I have. It is a series of this present, that the past and future have too. If so, what is my present?

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Quick Fix

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It began to rain. The narrow streets were poorly lit. Keith wanted to walk more quickly, but was afraid he would get lost. He could barely recognize the area. The old bakery on the corner was closed, as was the shoe repair shop next door, though the blinking sign above the darkened shop window was still on. The next block consisted of a vacant lot. Keith looked around for a bus stop, but couldn’t find one. The streets were empty—not a single person, or even a stray dog or cat could be seen.

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Restless

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It couldn’t have been long…or, at least that was Jerimiah’s best guess. The fact that he was still alive was a clear indication of that.  Blackness; nothing but dense darkness surrounded him. He tried to maneuver but the space was limited, in fact he was barely able to separate his arms from his body. Lifting his hand he jammed his thumb on the roof which was only inches above him. Several times he banged on the roof as hard as he could; the stiff sound of his strikes unable to resonate through the uncertain surface that lay on top of him.

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The Man of Her Dreams

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Virtually every New Yorker believes that the worse the weather, the harder it is to get a cab. Tonight was bitter cold, and the only taxis Esther saw had their “Off Duty” signs lit. She had just about decided to walk the two long blocks to the subway station when she heard a car horn honking.

The driver pulled over to the curb and rolled down his window. He looked familiar.

“Esther, right? You were at the party.”

“Yeah?”

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Mitawin

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Cal and Carrie Dodd, each twenty five, left their apartment at 9:00 AM and loaded their car with camping equipment. “It looks like we have everything we’ll need for a week. There’s plenty of food in the coolers, and we can always catch some fish,” Carrie said.”

“I have my hunting knife, and I put the hatchet in the back. We might have to chop some fire wood. I guess we have everything, Carrie, so let’s go camping.”

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Unicorns and Sparkles

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Twilight Sparkle! You're so pretty.

My mom says I'm beautiful, but I don't think I can ever be as beautiful as Twilight. She says I'm pretty. I think I'm pretty too, when I wear my dancing dress. I love to dance, and spin around. You should watch me spin – I'll jump too, and I can make a pirouette.

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So, You Wanna be a Cop?

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As told by Dr. Mitchell Jacobs, Chairman of Media Studies who is substituting tonight for Professor Francis Neptune’s “Interpersonal Communication” class. Frankie is an adjunct liberal arts professor at a small local college. The students are mostly Criminal Justice majors. Frankie is attending a Racket (copspeak for retirement party) for one of his former colleagues from the NYPD.

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Eye Candy

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I remember the first night we met.

I told you that you had the most amazing eyes.

You smiled and blushed.

You were so beautiful.

After some small talk you finally agreed to dinner.

Our first date still warms my heart.

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It Takes One to Know One

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Tadeusz Mikloski grew up in the cultural cocoon of the Polish Immigrant community in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. He always unquestionably resisted assimilation into the majority American mainstream. That was paramount to his existence. Then suddenly questions started to pop. But how long could self control last?

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Embedding a Spy

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“Too ugly. Too tall. Too fat.” Lord Marikh walked down a row of slaves, he was followed by his scribe Tryll. Marikh had yet to impress the Almighty with a gift, he hoped he’d find one today. “Ahh! Why is this one even here? I’ve seen at least fifty girls and only one has been worthy so far.”

“Milord,” Tryll said, “the seller has one with him. She is, uh, exceptionally beautiful, but I think that um she might be a bit too costly. I heard him say, well uh, he called her Jazmin.” Tryll looked to the ground when Marikh turned to him.

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