Finished Folds (1—20)
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3She stretched out blissfully in her hammock, the weight of the day not yet landed. The neighbor's dog, on the other hand, snout thrust through the fence, barked incessantly at her.
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6"17 times pi," I quip, hamming it up for my audience. Inside, my guts are pooling in awkward puddles. If I screw up this interview, I'll end up on "Running Man" for pimpled tweens.
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1of locking his tail around the closest pole. Unfortunately, in this case, I was the closest thing resembling a pole. "Bean" they had nicknamed me in college. High school was worse.
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4There's nothing quite so energizing, he mused, as the fire of one's enemies. He let his hand play over the flames, scooping up a flickering couple to pool in his hand.
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6she whispered. "Run fast, dear one, and leap into that great void!" And she gave Brian a great push that launched him out into the tepid air swirling above Manhattan. "Penelope!"
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5would sizzle the life force right out of him. And yet. He practically melted into his coffin recalling the electric zing of that first sip, the way the sweet dusky flesh parted,
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4"I smell smoke," she yelped, alert eyes slashing across the expansive vista. Not a cloud stained the blueness. I glanced down at her long, yellowed fingers. "Yours?" I pointed at
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4slipped through the frigid air, uniform in hand, intent upon escape. But he forgot about the claymores Uncle Billy left set in the front yard... The best fireworks ever, they said.
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3Our intrepid hero glanced around, satisfaction pooling in his guts. Yes, this was the Inuit way, he thought. He squatted down, fishing for the perfect beak. A pendant for his lady
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11collecting shiny objects. Unfortunately for him, her collection resided in her many and various pockets and they were all quite sharp and pointy and made of sterling silver.
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3and without rhythm of any sort. "Mix the flour, roll the dough!" his nascent superpowers whispered. He tried to shake them out of his brain, but the words swelled. "My Anaconda
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4desperate for a glimpse of pale flesh, and darted in to peck at pink folds of skin and loose flaps of flab. "Be Gone!" I cried, fumbling for my wand. One flash & it was over.
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2began translating the Korean newspaper into Cyrillic. Manatee would never decipher the secret code now, he thought. Slipping undetected out of the dumpster, he
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3Not every story begins with "Once upon a time" or "Long, long ago." For example, this one was going to start off with "It was a dark and stormy night."
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2biological evidence lurked a mere 9 months away. Indeed, the nascent urge to click each profile, pore over every lurid detail, & beg each to marry her burgeoned large, insistently.
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4winked at the cute little puppy at the top of the stairs. "I do have room for something new in my life," he smiled. "After all," he flourished at the bleeding bodies, "they're all
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3the flames, and screams filled the air. The man in black squared his jaw and donned a particularly brave smile before heading straight into the
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4snickered behind their closed fists, trying not to let the dr notice how excited they were. When he finally left the room, they broke out into cheers & high fives. A 30 yr coma
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4launching the smooth sphere of snow-speckled scenes straight at the dark windshield. It bobbled gloriously in the pristine air four sweet seconds before the undercover cop realized
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3on-a growin' but that was not gonna be the case. Nosirree. Not BobJoe the Plumber. He had hisself a case of Drain-O in the back of this here pick-up, and he hisself had a funnel