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Fiction |
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something moves over the sky/ blocking the light/ and the outline men's signal/ and the ceaseless chatter stops/ just for a minute/ and time slows/ and gravity pulls me down/ and back up again/ as the fires behind my eyes/ burn the present/ and torch eternity/ just for a while/ and then I'm back/ and i look down/ and there are a new set of scratches in the arm of chair/ my mark that says/ I was here/ and i will be again/ and then i pass the pipe back/ waiting for the orbit/ to bring it back around into my atmosphere
is that good shit or what?// graham asks
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but i can only nod and smile/ from behind my canopy/ as each re-entry gets harder/ because i want to stay in the firmament/ where I was created/ because even though i know i'm still in my larval stage/ soon I'll have to return home/ and become my true self/ be re-born/ and leave behind the weak/ biological machine i occupy now/ but my patience is growing thin/ i can't wait much longer
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let's go out for a bit// i find myself saying// we need to study the enemy so we can mount an adequate counter-attack
whatever// graham says// so long as you're buying
the paranoia has crept in by the time we reach the pub/ the chemicals have vacated my location/ graham seems alright, almost relaxed, as we sit by the bar and order our drinks/ if we went anywhere else/ we wouldn't get served/ but this is a broken place/ filled with broken people/ and no one notices another set of damaged goods
well, this is shit// graham says as he stares into his pint//
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shall we go back and finish our gear in a bit?
my gear// say
hey, who got you the fuckin' gear?// he snaps/ which worries me/ because his annoyance could be the avenue that lets them in
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i pass him a spliff under the table/ he takes a deep toke and passes it back/ i don't like smoking weed when i'm smoking the other/ but in situations like this/ you need something to take the edge away/ something to help you survive in the vacuum without exploding
a bunch of lads come in/ and i feel menacing vibrations emanating from their direction/ they look over at us/ and straight away i know that their leader is an outline man/ even graham can sense it and he's an earthborn/ goddamn it/ graham's negative energy allowed them to locate me
i don't like this// he says// i can see us gettin' some aggro here
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i lay back and drink some beer/ letting the coolness of it slip down my throat/ the lads are looking over at us/ disgust barely contained
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Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Surfers on the Sofa By Gemma Durham
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How hot is Hull? With it's seductive, cosmopolitan avenues, the chip spice, the late
taxi's always on the way. Ask someone from down south to sit on your sofa and you'd
think they would have a date in the ocean with a surfer.
Awards for the friendliest university, and a special up and coming indie rock scene that has hottened hull to the top.
Learning to speak Hull has
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Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Walking Into Doors By Nick Boldock
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She squinted into the mirror and looked at the bruise around her eye. Already it was turning a sickening shade of purple. It throbbed when she prodded away at it. The thick laceration in her bottom lip was stinging as well, as she dabbed at it with a wedge of TCP-soaked cotton wool. She knew she ought to be more careful. Less clumsy, less thoughtless.
He'd say he was sorry,
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Fiction - 100 Words Competition - The Graveyard Shift By Rich Mills
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The taxi office is beige with nicotine and age.
Battling with the Sandman, my weapons of choice, cigarettes and coffee, dispensed from the
whirring-gurgling coffee machine. Of things I've done for money this is the lowest.
Six calls all night, only TV to numb the brain. Cups, and corners filled with cigarette butts.
I wait for the dawn.
Then my replacement comes on,
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Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Big Slaughter By Kate Askin
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As Big Slaughter housemate 'Little Wee' Jim gave a final tug on the
garrotte round the neck of the only other remaining contestant, he knew he had won...he knew...
He knew by the sound of that last gurgle...It came from the throat of six-feet-six
Thai hermaphrodite Om Lui (whose height was enhanced by foot-long calf extensions, no less).
He knew, by the last desperate,
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Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Debit Column By Patrick Henry
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Raymond, abrasively-witty, biography-reviewing journalist, worked during endless pub-going; volumes under arm; notes mental or
beer-mat-jottings; from Five AM. around Smithfield Market, through mid-day Fleet Street, Soho; to evening Chelsea, exhausting his trail home.
Early hours meant snatched sleep and eating; columns grittily-written: cold turkey! Five A.M. his taxi
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Fiction - 100 Words Competition - The 1st One Hundred Words Are The Hardest By Rich Mills
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He'd started that first sentence many times, deleting it and starting over again.
The cursor blinked in the corner of the screen, taunting him, daring him to write something.
He stared at, became hypnotized by it. Time ticked by, blink, blink, blink.
His mind was just blank, blank, blank.
Then in a sudden rush to fill the white expanse with black he started banging away at
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Fiction - End Of The Line By Nick Quantrill
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This is how it happened...
I was driving down Lowgate. There's got to be a better way than this, I thought to myself. But then I saw her, clinging to a lamppost, holding her hand out as her friend tried to stop her from falling over. I indicated and pulled over; she would do nicely. Her friend bundled her into my car.
No respect for anything, least of all herself, I thought
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Fiction - Another Brick In The Wall, Another Man In The Crowd By Steve Rudd
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'It doesn't look any different on this side,' the disembodied voice yelled over the void.
'I never said that it would look any different. But I bet it feels different,' ventured an old man's voice on the Eastern side of the wall.
'Not really,' the disembodied voice declared. 'At least not from where I'm standing.'
To some people, the momentous fall of the Berlin Wall signified freedom
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Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 2 Chapter 2 By Frank Beill
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It was too late in the day to visit Tweed Street school - the children and their teachers would be long gone by now. This left only the address I'd been given for George. Hessle Road was not a long walk from Princes Avenue but a tram ride was quicker or to be precise two tram rides were: one into the city centre and one back out again to get me to my destination.
All the old reactions
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Fiction - The Service By Joe Hakim
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I'm a professional. I get the job done.
It's already getting dark as I arrive at the station. I make my way past the perimeter fence and park my car in the shelter. So begins the process of shedding everything that makes me who I am, in order to become somebody else.
You can never tell what kind of night it's going to be, so even now after all this time the anticipatory adrenalin
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Fiction - The Emporium of Illusions By Andy Bilton
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I cannot decide which foam bath to put in to the tub. Mood, I feel, is an important player in a first date situation and I do not want to fold at the first hand by getting in to the wrong one before tonight's encounter.
So do I pour in some of the Marks & Spencers 'Tranquility' that has an unnerving resemblance to Rowntree's Lime Jelly and 'treat myself to an indulgent bathing
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Fiction - The Horrible Death of Tony Clare: Retribution and Revolt By Sean Davey
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Tony Clare, British Premier, bringer of war, pestilence, famine and social impotence, died today. Killed by an unknown man. A man driven not by his hatred for the Prime Minister, but by his own need to right the wrongs that Tony Clare's society was responsible for.
A society which neglected its own people, raped the land, taxed the workers and killed the innocent.
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Fiction - Dig Your Own Hole By Joe Hakim
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Things were going well. We were on schedule and under budget, Chris Chambers, so my boss was chuffed to bits. "It's going to be a good year," he said slapping me on the back, a huge shit-eating grin plastered across his face. As he looked around the building site, he tipped back his hard-hat and his chest expanded like a proud father watching at his children running around.
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Fiction - Load the Cards By Sean Davey
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Loading up the cards and I start thinking. I think about casino's, and all that is.
Imagine a building dear reader, where degenerate, and often eccentric behaviour is not only the norm. its positively encouraged. Heavy drinking and gambling is as much a part of the punters mind as work, or going for a meal. Its just what they do to get their kicks.
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