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Short story: Last Day Of School

She walked towards the table in the middle of the classroom where the plastic time capsule lay open, like a treasure trove of memorabilia for the kids to open at their tenth reunion.

Short story: A Nice Cup Of Tea

People say that beauty is only skin deep, and that it’s what’s inside a person that really counts, but when you look like me, people tend to forget that there might be anything inside me at all worth looking for.

Short story: Malaria

“I reckon maybe you have malaria.”

Short story: The Train

Every day when I get on the train to go to work, I stand with my toes just over the yellow safety line as my small act of rebellion for the morning.

Short story: Freedom

As I recollect, the words they used 'bout me on the news afore I was caught was "delinquent" and "notorious".

Short story: Waiting

The snow is uneven, slushy, glinting murkily in the tailights of the traffic that lumbers past like shiny red-bottomed elephants on skates and fades into the dark night.

Short story: The Exterminator

From my lofty height I stare down at the seething masses.

Short story: The Boss

I hate all the people in my department, with their antagonism, their machismo, their relentless bullying and big hands and meaty, manly jowls.

Short story: Job Interview

I ashed my cigarette all over his desk pretending not to notice the angry red "no smoking" signs.

Short story: My Old Man

I'll puzzle through the old man's petulance.

Short story: The Last Dance

She sits at the little wooden table, knees together, ankles apart, forearms resting lightly on a thousand scratchy splinters.

Short story: Den Of Vice

The night air is soaked warm, like raisins for a pudding, with the smell of sweat and smoke and the low rumble of voices.

Short story: Love Letter

My love,

Short story: Love At First Sight

She looked at me and said

Short story: Ode To Spring

In green grass, silkily damp with dew and bowed down with humility, Rose rambles, gnarly with thorns, tinged with imperfections.

Short story: Hostel

Blonde hair, brown skin, green eyes, blue eyes, long limbs, dreadlocks, justifications, recriminations, a dozen languages, a dozen cigarettes, first world guilt, humble actions, superior thoughts.

Short story Mission

I creep around the strange room, slowly, painstakingly, like a murderer.

Short story: Mad Meg

Mad Meg’s what they call her, and I can see why.

Short story: All Strung Out

Strung out in the hammock

Short story: The Master

It takes a lot of self-discipline to do what I do.

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