Category: Fiction/Verse
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Writing Challenge 2: Day 6
Damien stared long and hard at the gate to her house. He wanted to douse the place with gas and set it on fire. Fire, how all-consuming it was. He wondered why this was necessary, why pain was necessary, what pain was supposed to teach us except to never ever let anybody hurt you ever…
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Writing Challenge 2: Day 5
There must be some sort of balance in this world, he thought. Half of his belongings was about her. Or because of her. The giant whiteboard that took up too much room, the row of little Russian dolls that disappeared into one another, even the orthopedic foam mattress he got because she said sleeping on…
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Writing Challenge 2: Day 4
This is why I need a place of my own, Stella thought. She sat paralyzed on the sofa while Burney screamed obscenities at the screen. Left 4 Dead. Stella would leave Burney for dead if it came to that. In the kitchen the mother is talking about something or another—the fact that she’s thirty, time’s…
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Writing Challenge 2: Day 3
He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead. Dumas could feel the earth shake underneath him. He looked around at Spectral, everyone else was walking fine. So, he was imagining this. What he wasn’t entirely imagining were the faint trickles of blood escaping with his sweat and tears, the rashes erupting like tiny poisonous flowers along his…
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Writing Challenge 2: Day 2
Addiction of the century, if you like. I looked around the top of IBM Plaza–it took some certified ninja moves to get here undetected. I’m not sure if they allowed civilians to hang out here otherwise why isn’t anybody else here? The winds are strong and a welcome respite from the deadly heat. Found it.…
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Writing Challenge 2: Day 1
In time, his father said, he’ll get it. He developed last among the boys, meaning last among his entire class, no, his entire grade. He didn’t understand numbers, didn’t care for words, didn’t really have any interest in particular. He was just that, a boy. Only he wasn’t an angry little boy, not at all.…
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Study: Bennett
He has anger the magnitude of a century wracked with oppression and suppression and hell. He is built just right, not too small not to be taken seriously in a fight, not too large to stand out in this crowd. He is lean but pure muscle, and can theoretically tackle a bear when needed. He…
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Guess who? It’s Dumas Chang!
My name is Dumas Chang and I have a tricky relationship with time. I’m hopelessly multiracial. I have a condition, I have a seeing gene. And by seeing gene I don’t mean clairvoyance or a knack for photography. By seeing gene I mean I can see through people, and time. I can see things that…
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Sanga, Prologue
A Letter All love is unrequited. All of it. ~ J. Michael Stracyznski Hindi ito ang huling bagay na hindi mo pa alam tungkol sa akin. But this was the closest I ever got to understanding the beauty and terror of what you have been fighting for. Somewhere along the course of these crazy events,…
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Writing Challenge: Day 30 (Woo-hoo!)
And Now, The Probable End “He really did it,” Nirvana told Keebs. “He said he would.” “Did you know when you met him that he was like this?” “That he was insane?” Keebs laughed. “I knew he was different.” “He told me not to worry. But he wasn’t talking about the kid.” Nirvana’s eyes filled…