The hardest thing I will ever do is to let you go.
I’m thinking of holding you, your sweet weight in my hands so fragile-soft and impossible. New. Your eyes were the blue of the babies who
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The hardest thing I will ever do is to let you go.
I’m thinking of holding you, your sweet weight in my hands so fragile-soft and impossible. New. Your eyes were the blue of the babies who
... [+]
One night, as the party at the campus’s hostel was slowly losing its vigor, I decided that it was time for me to call it a night. It was late, and I was lucky to be able to catch the last tram home ... [+]
It was a black sky that I saw when I finally put the pen down. There were times when I almost ended up asking myself why I did this, day after day. Why I chose to spend my nights in solitude, hunched ... [+]
I am floating through a black nothingness. I can’t see anything. It’s like a thousand shadows are covering me.
Wait, I think I see some light. What is that? What am I seeing? Is that my
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I lost my job on a Friday, and I went home with this strange, weighted feeling about me.
Jim, my now-former boss, is a good guy. He let me know about the situation instead of just canning me.
It
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The yard adjacent to his porch reeked of ragweed with every step he took. Gnats would alight from the prickled stems. He shook his head at the imprint his foot left.
“Growing fast this
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I perched in my usual spot in the family room, listening to the sounds of the house flowing around me. In the next room Bailey’s nails clicked on the tile. She slurped from her bowl, lapping ... [+]
The dazzling, sandy yellow Brazilian beach stretched as far as the eye could see. The enlightened, fresh and cold sea was calm but there were giant waves.
I was holding my pale-blue surf-board
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Today was the day, there was no question about it. I was near the front of the exit and it was Saturday night, nearing 11PM. The doors would swing open for just a few seconds and I had secured an ... [+]
The slapping of raindrops...
For several hours it is the only sound he has been hearing, this heavy rain that from time to time hits the barrel of his musket.
He sits there, only protected by
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The taxi stopped where the road came to a dead end, at the cliff’s edge. The driver offered directions in a charming Scottish brogue. ‘The cottage is down there. Follow the path to the rocks.’ ... [+]