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Written by Peter Schoenau
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The day began with a hazy morning. Lately, he had been able to see the ocean on many days from his room on the twelfth floor. His view was restricted only by the uneven, jagged line of rooftops that lay between him and the ocean. But this morning he peered in vain beyond the sea of houses. He could only make out a grey band that marked the horizon. |
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Written by Justin Hyde
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Titles the color of a grizzly bear at sunset the great daughters of iowa |
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Written by Michael Estabrook
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Titles Old Uncle Gus and I had a Nice Talk Barbershop alone in my room |
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Written by Damion Hamilton
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Charlie had just left his gig at the radio station. It was an incredibly easy gig that played a lot of money. He was fifty years old now and he was finally a success. He had dreamed of being a success all his life. He was a creative and imaginative fellow; and heard and read things about great people. He had always wanted to be a writer, like his great hero Hemingway. |
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Written by Michael Lee Johnson
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Titles Poem From my Grave Willow Tree Night and Snowy Visitors |
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Written by L. Annette Binder
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Titles Things I carry Storms Gather |
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Written by Lillian Ridgeway
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It wasn’t a common name—but not uncommon, either. In eight years of practice, Eva had encountered countless Gavins, endless Nicoles, and innumerable variations of both. The names themselves no longer elicited a quick hiccup in her heart rate. Eva had trained herself not to react to them anymore as a matter of daily survival. But there had never been a namesake patient before, both names strung together like that. It shook her slightly, as she stared at her appointment book, and her mind wandered off on its own before she managed to snap her professional dispassion back into place. |
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Written by Amanda Boschetto
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Titles amnesia the sun and night |
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Written by James Babbs
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Titles Want Black Spiral Notebook |
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Written by Carolyn Helmberger
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Titles Ruby Morning's Henchman |
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Written by John Grey
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Titles A Preoccupation with Sex Commandment XIV: Thou Shalt not Mentor |
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Written by Gary Beck
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Well, life had definitely taken a turn for the better. I still had my job teaching acting at Gotham University’s School of the Arts. This meant that I could afford to keep my East Village apartment. This, of course, was not good news for my landlord, a slumlord who retained his property long enough to strike gold when the neighborhood became gentrified. Now I wouldn’t have to slink in and out of the building, avoiding his acqusitional fingers, and he would have to find a different way to get rid of me. I also might have a new girl friend, Anitra Blavatsky, a flighty artist who I met at an opening at a trendy gallery in Chelsea. When she told me her name I guess I didn’t react properly, so she informed me haughtily that she was a lineal descendant of Madame Blavatsky, the famous spiritualist and mystic. |
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Written by Sean C. Bowen
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Titles When Writing unfinished journal entry |
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Written by William Doreski
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Titles A Lucky Walnut The Flowers that Rule the World Poem Beginning with a Line from Donne |
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Written by Daniel Gallik
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Titles True Love Making
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