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About Literature / Hobbyist Tara Morrigan, DID System30/Female/United Kingdom Groups :iconfixed-form-poetry: Fixed-Form-Poetry
 
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Literature
Ogg + Ugg
Ogg sat by the smallest fire, dejectedly stirring the dirt in front of him with a stick. Ugg watched him for a while with interest before going over. Ogg wasn't usually like this.
"What wrong?" Ugg said as she sat next to him. "Ogg used go have fun with other cavemen. Why Ogg not now?"
Ogg sighed and stopped stirring the dirt to look at her instead. "Ogg was first make stick with rock. Other cavemen make fun, say will never work. Now all cavemen have rock-sticks! Ogg had rock-stick FIRST." Ogg thumped his chest for emphasis on the last word.
Ugg frowned, not understanding. "Is good that other cavemen have rock-sticks. Rock-sticks brought down BIG meat! Ogg is clever for thinking of rock-sticks, should be glad other cavemen also make rock-sticks!" Ugg nodded.
Ogg sighed and went back to dejectedly stirring the dirt. "Ogg had rock-stick FIRST," he repeated.
Ugg frowned, tilted her head at him, then went back to the other fires to eat meat and celebrate, still not understanding why Ogg wa
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Literature
Schoolgirl Scowls
Emma swung her legs, kicking at the already-chipped bricks of the wall they were sitting on. "Well I heard that they will attack humans, if hungry or provoked enough," she said.
"Really?" said Rob, sitting next to her on the wall, adding in a very concerned voice, "But there aren't any left around here anymore, are there?"
"Well there weren't, but they're bringing them back!" Emma replied, sounding very cheerful about it.
"Oh." Rob turned very quiet while he digested this. "I hope they don't."
Emma scowled at him. "I hope they do!" she retorted. "I know a lot of people I'd want them to eat, starting with you!"
She'd meant it as a joke but Rob looked hurt and jumped down off the wall. "I'm going home," he said shortly.
Emma scowled again and yelled "Good riddance!" at his back even though she didn't mean it in the slightest. She sighed. It was starting to get dark anyway, he wouldn't have stayed much longer no matter how nice she was. He was lucky, to live th
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Literature
Nostalgia and Perpetuity
Daniel had had to do a lot of adjusting to the new world after he'd fallen into an experimental wormhole and ended up a hundred years in the future. Sentient robots trying to be humans, cyborg humans trying to be robots, alien immigrants trying to get into Earth, neo-neo-nazis trying to keep them out, and still no goddamned flying cars like they'd been promised. But there was one thing at least that he could count on. One thing at least that was still the same. One little thing in this big 22nd Century apple that still felt like home.
Daniel bit into his dirty-water hotdog and grinned, savouring the seasoned taste of nostalgia and perpetuity.
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Literature
A Real Pageturner
It happened a few months after I met her; Nina, the girl with the silvery hair who lived in the manor house down the way. She had always seemed withdrawn and quiet the whole time I'd known her, her head always in a book and her face always frowning in concentration. Her thoughts far away such that she rarely joined in a conversation and you could near forget she was with you. I thought maybe that's what had happened at first, that I'd just forgotten whether or not she was even there in the park that day. Or that she'd slipped home while I wasn't looking, wasn't paying attention.
But then I saw the book on the ground, lying carelessly open and facedown, pages folded over and crushed into the bare earth, and I knew that she'd not left of her own volition. She'd cherished that book. I had never once seen her without it, and the few times I'd seen her not reading it she was hugging it to her chest, keeping it safe and close to her. There was no way she would have left it just lying there o
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Literature
An Affair to Avoid
Dear Penelope,
It occurs to me that we have been taking English Lit together for two years now. In all that time it can not have failed to escape your attention that the two of us would be perfect together. Alone among our peers are we two who truly understand the Romantic. Clearly we are two matching intellectual souls adrift in a world of fools, and I feel that it would quite behoove us to conduct an affair. To let our names be seen together in places other than the top of the class. To give the uncultured degenerates we live among a perfect relationship to look up to and model themselves after. Let us elevate the lives of our fellow countrymen together!
Hopefully and ardently yours,
Steven
Penelope didn't make it even halfway through the letter before snorting with laughter. What world was this dude living on? He didn't know anything about her! They'd never even talked! She read it all the way to the end anyway and showed it to her friends for a bit of a giggle before crumpling it u
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Literature
Astronomical Forgetfulness
It was always a long commute home at the end of the week. Twenty-four hours spent crammed in an overblown cabin with nineteen other people. Not the best way to spend the day. Perhaps the very worst of all possible ways to spend a day, Jeff thought. But still. He was off on vacation now and wouldn't need to do this dreaded thing again for a whole month.
He hummed to himself all the way home from the shuttle station, thinking of what a bliss it would be to finally relax, and didn't realise until he reached his front door that he'd left his keys all the way back on Mars.
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Literature
Santa's Successor
The first time I met him was on a train. He was reading the newspaper when I first spotted him, but stopped for long enough to give me a wink when he noticed me staring. I was five years old at the time and I recognised him instantly, even though none of the grownups around me seemed to and my mom told me off for pointing. It was just because he wasn't wearing his signature red coat and hat, I thought at the time. I know better now.
The second time I met him we were in a restaurant. He was eating pasta, but stopped to give me a wink again when he saw me staring, almost as if he recognised me too. I was a teenager by then, and cynical. I thought I'd imagined it the last time, and it must be merely coincidence this time that had caused a fat old bearded man to wink in my general direction. I'd thought at the time that it must have been meant for somebody behind me instead. I know better now.
The next time I saw him he offered me a job and I took it without hesitation. I was fresh out of
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Literature
The Neighbour's Gardener
Summer break began when dad shot the neighbour's gardener. It wasn't actually, technically, supposed to be summer break yet, but what're you gonna do when the whole town is full of raging cannibalistic corpses? Hell, I'd ditched school to avoid people before; there was no way I was braving any monsters for it.
The people on the news said we shouldn't leave our homes anyway. The school had sent out letters trying to convince us that the school bus was heavily armed and armored enough that it could get us to school no problem, but my dad and I had called around before our phones got cut off by the military and the whole town was in agreement; summer break had started already. Though this was the most boring summer break I'd ever known, with us all being stuck in here and cut off from our friends. There was nothing to do but wait and stare at the dead world out there.
The neighbour's gardener had been a nice man, my dad said one time when we were staring out the front window
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Literature
Hypervigilance
The Advanced Atmosphere-Analysing Artificial Aphonic Articulated Hypervigilant Humanoid, or AAAAAAHH for short, took one step into the glorified caffeine dispensary and stopped, transistors firing all over the place. The atmosphere in here was palpably tense, and AAAAAAHH tried to alert its human with a buzzing noise and a soft grip on its shirt, but its human shrugged it off and carried on its way inside. AAAAAAHH followed reluctantly, spinning its head around constantly so that it could see all possible dangers at once, and continuing to buzz in it's quiet-but-still-very-noticable yellow-alert tone.
The human in front of AAAAAAHH's human reached the counter and ordered its drink. AAAAAAHH's human was next. AAAAAAHH manouevered itself into a defensive position behind it and continued swiveling its head around. The patrons of this establishment stared at both it and its owner with menace in their eyes and AAAAAAHH felt its danger response go into overdrive, filling its memory with acti
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Literature
Spirit Visions
It was going to be a long day. Jack Rose sighed as he shrugged his coat on, popped a painkiller, and headed out into the world. Another day, another death in the afternoon. Or not, as the case may be. This one had been called in by the Pink Lady, as she was known in his PD, so it was debatable whether or not there had actually even been a crime, and very likely that if there had it was a minor offence and nothing like what had been described. The daft old bat kept on calling in with 'visions' of 'murders' that turned out to be nothing more than her own dark imaginings ninety times out of a hundred and neighbourhood kids messing around trying to scare her another nine. But orders were orders, and his chief still had a chip on his shoulder over that one harrowing case she'd gotten right and he'd failed to listen to her about.
A real stinger of a snowball bounced off the back of Jack's head as he reached his car and he turned, growling, just in time to see the backs of two of his own neig
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Mature content
A Murder Most Sweet :icontheskaboss:TheSkaBoss 0 8
Literature
The Fleeting Path to Happiness
It doesn't exist the rest of the year, but for a single night a flower blooms in the desert. Iridescent petals with rainbow hues shine gaily among the sand, lighting a path through the dunes that is said to bring joy and laughter to those who follow it, if they can only reach the end...
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Literature
Rising in Rank
Tarren's fist clenched around his dagger and he forced himself to stop, taking deep breaths until he could get a better grip on both his emotions and his blade. Now would be the absolute worst time for him to make a mistake out of clumsiness. After all this time of bowing and scraping and knuckling under, never being allowed to forget how indebted he was to the Guild that had taken him in as an infant, he'd finally been given a chance. An opportunity to rise in the ranks. To pay back some of what he owed and no longer be digging himself deeper into debt with every day he wanted to eat.
After a few deep breaths Tarren's hands steadied. He pulled back the coverlets that were scrunched over his first victim's head, wanting to be sure of the placement of his dagger. He intended to be in and out of here quickly and without a sound, leaving no trace of his or the Guild's presence beyond a single wound in his victims' necks--any more would leave him in trouble with the Guild. But as he did so
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Literature
Gayy
Lynne waited at their spot on the beach for hours, unsure if her lover would come. There had been harsh words and harsher silences, and who knew if promises would still be held to in the face of all that. Lynne sighed, and doodled her lover's name in a heart in the sand for the 85th time or so, letting her fingers linger while tracing longingly along it. Lost in her anxious thoughts and the soothing motions, she didn't hear the soft footsteps over the sand coming to join her.
"That's gay." Kristen said, looking over her shoulder.
Lynne's heart leapt. She turned to see her lover's face in a broad grin. "You're gay," she retorted, grinning back at her.
They kissed.
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Literature
Doomed to Repeat
"The alt-right? Neo-reactionaries? Race realists? You know, I'm sure we used to have a word for those kind of people..."
---
Somewhere aboard a hidden spaceship within the Earth's thermosphere, a decrepit old man with a white toothbrush moustache smiled. He'd been skeptical, but these aliens had really pulled it off. Nobody remembered the word.
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Mature content
The Mac Guffin Muffin :icontheskaboss:TheSkaBoss 2 10

Random Favourites

Literature
FFM 2016, July 29 - Thin White Duke
We just elected the Thin White Duke as the leader of the world. We call him that because of his uncanny resemblance, his demeanor and clothing giving him an air of nobility. He takes the stage in front of the cameras and flashing lights, giving us a Nazi salute that is splayed across newspapers world-wide the next day, words given wings amidst chaotic and apocalyptic headlines. Those were the golden years, when he went – from station to station – spreading his enigmatic and terrifying message of a new beginning.
Why did we do it, why did we give up everything just to worship at his feet? Because we were afraid, and he offered us something to hold on to; even if he was little more than an impossible mirage. But the Duke, always dressed impeccably in his white short and black vest and trousers, was in the end a man of his world. TVC 15 he called it. The elixir of life, given to him in a vision by none other than Aleister Crowley.
You had to consume it in front of a TV, on whi
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Literature
FFM 2016: Lazarus
New Malchek is a city made for darkness, and by the time the flame filled sunset rolls around, the New Divine are already lining up on street corners, their eyes flaring silver with the hymns of the night. 
I find Wax standing on the corner outside the club, white and dressed to kill as he crushes the remains of an illicit cigarette beneath the heel of his designer shoe.
“Jesus, Wax. Where did you find those things?” I ask, eyeing the pile of cigarette stubs that surround him. A small fortune already reduced to ashes, and I’m only five minutes late at most. “You told me your Korovan was useless.” 
“It is. But I can ask for cigarettes in every language.” He declares, and burns me with a radiant smile. “Are you ready to go in?”
“I’m ready.” I say, and it’s only half a lie, but I’ve got nothing left to lose.
A girl greets us at the club entrance, and her face is sans feature as is t
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Literature
Depth
“The thing is...”
The wishing well sighed.
“When you say ’wishing well’, everyone immediately visualises the bit up top. The circular wall, the bucket, the winch and the handle. The cute little roof. And that isn’t really me. I mean, I’m the shaft in the ground. The hole filled with water! All the rest is window dressing to be honest. Do you get where I’m coming from? Does that make sense? Or am I just talking rubbish?”
“Not at all, not at all. I think you’re—” The voice at the bottom of the well paused. “...quite deep.”
There was the sound of a little splashing.
“Any… sign of that rescue party, by the way?”
“Still looking for a stronger rope,” said the wishing well cheerfully.
“Oh, right,” said the voice. “Excellent.”
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Literature
FFM 2016 29: Blackstar
So softly, a supergod cries, while its mother leaves to find a better candidate to repopulate the skies.
You see, ever since the stars deigned to fall and procreate with the mortals, these so-called supergods have been living among us. A vast majority of the time, these mixed unions merely result in uncommonly starry-eyed or golden-haired babies, but once a year, a new star begins.
If the star emits a white sheen, this means it will soon develop temperatures fiery enough to annihilate the Earth, and must be released as soon as possible into the Milky Way. But the blackstars breathe among us. They glow, but not enough to blind us.
I should know. I discovered a star and named it David.
I was twelve, hunting in the attic for a spider. I lifted down an unusually heavy box from its shelf, then shifted away the blanket covering it.
A beam of light shot up. I gasped and stumbled backward over some tangled fairy lights. When I opened my eyes, a shimmering boy in bright blue jeans stood over me
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Literature
FFM 29 - The Supersonic Man
“We’re going to make a super-sonic man out of you,” someone had said when they wheeled his stretcher into the lab, but in retrospect he was certain that it wasn’t Doctor Jones.  Whoever it had been, they hadn’t oversold the process.  He was certain that he was breathing his last breaths only a week earlier, and now he was lifting weights in a highly classified gym somewhere below the Nevada desert.  The facility was a subterranean labyrinth designated only as TVC15, and Joe had no idea how deep its tunnels ran, nor what other scary monsters and super creeps like himself took residence there.
This particular experiment was headed up by Doctor Robert Jones, whose mismatched eyes and enigmatic smile would have set Joe on edge if he didn’t have such a gentle manner to him.  “Excellent work, Joe,” he said with his crisp English accent, scribbling a note on his clipboard.  “And now the next set.”
Joe dropped
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Literature
Dare
    Coral gazed into the surface at her own reflection. It looked scared. What a stupid thing to be, she thought. There’s nothing dangerous about this game.
    She scrunched her eyes shut anyway and thrust her hand into the surface. The cries of admiration from her friends made it worth it.
    “What does it feel like?”
    “Cold,” she said. “And heavy.” There wasn’t the same kind reassuring pressure she was used to. She pulled her hand back out slowly and felt the warmth return to her skin. The others would make fun if they knew how scary it had been, so she tried not to let her relief show.
    “Do it again!”
    “No, you do it. I did it already.”
    “If you do it, I’ll do any dare you tell me to.”
    “Oh, really? Will you swim out to the shipwreck and bring something back from it?”
    Kai b
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Literature
FFM30: The Monsters We Know
"Are you ready for this?" Kyle asks.
Desdemona isn't, but she nods anyway. They sit in the darkness, waiting, watching the clock.
She tolerates a lot of things she shouldn't. Rudeness is the worst of it. Entitlement is the not so little sister of that offense. She has been pushed and screamed at. She has had to listen to the spew of vitriol so vile it should count as abuse---under the banner of "the customer is always right".
"You're a dumb bitch, you know that?"
"I can get this cheaper at the other store. You HAVE TO sell it to me for your competitor's prices."
"I only need one minute. Let me in."
"I know your boss. You'll lose your job for this!"

She has heard the last one so many times. Well. Go right the fuck ahead.
The customer is not always right. People are shitty and flawed and they will always be. They're more wrong than right, really.
But with coffee all things are possible. For now. Some day, it's going to stop working, and when it does, gods help them all. I
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Literature
Midlives Crisis
When she’d woken up after her latest death, naturally she hadn’t expected to wake up somewhere familiar.
She put on some clothes and found a driving licence in the pocket of the coat hanging by the front door. That told her what her new name was, and she went out to familiarise herself with the new area as well. She walked around for a while and eventually she had to admit it to herself. That nagging sense of déjà vu wasn’t déjà vu—she really had been here before. She’d had the flat before. She’d had this name before.
She looked at the street with different eyes as she walked back to the flat. This was it—her very first life.
Or rather, her first life after her original life. And death. When they’d needed a guinea pig and she’d needed a miracle. Because she really had been too young to die. Nineteen and in her first year at art school—there was still so much she wanted to do.
Her father had been upse
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Literature
Nothing But Time
Edison wasn't immediately aware that anything serious had happened. The room he was in, a specially lined, sealed containment bunker in a facility designed for these kinds of tests, was devoid of any feature that would change noticeably. At least, not noticeable at first.
His vision was blurred, and the apparatus he'd been setting up when the test-fire happened prematurely faded in and out of focus.
He sat, back pushed against the wall where the force of the explosion had left him, and waited for someone to come, but no one did.
He had to move.
As he levered himself up the wall, the paint beneath his fingers first curled and then flattened, changing tone ever so slightly as though withering and flaking from age and being replaced over and over as he watched.
Odd. His hand was in perfect focus. It wasn't his vision then, as that was clearly unaffected, it was everything around him that was blurred. He stood stunned, and watched as the shuddering in the center of the room seemed to slow,
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Literature
Moon Melon
    Lian dangled his feet over the ledge and marveled at how far he had managed to climb over the course of a few hours. All those nights of practice had paid off. Now all he had to do was wait for the full moon to break from the clouds.
    Behind him, a patch of vines grew close to the cliff face.
    While he waited, he recited the rules to himself: One melon, one mouth, one miracle. Any more than that and the melons would disappear and Lian would never see them again, no matter how many times he made the climb.
    He looked out over the darkened valley and wondered what he would do with the power of a moon melon. Perhaps he would become a great adventurer and perform amazing feats of bravery.
    Or perhaps he would become a skilled healer and bring people back from the brink of death.
    He could study at the finest schools, become a renowned scholar, and make discoveries that changed the world.
    The moon p
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Literature
FFM 2016: Change is on the way
“I don’t get it.” Cree says, his coat rustling like feathers as he shoves his hands deep into the pockets. “What’s so special about her?”
Blue shrugs. It’s a difficult question. 
The girl isn’t special, not really, not yet. But the signs and portents never deal in absolutes, only potential. One day she’ll grow up and do something that will change the world. Or she won’t. There’s no telling with predictions. But he feels this one is important somehow. He feels it right down to his bones.
The vision in the snow-globe has grown thin with overuse, and when he shakes it the image of the girl disintegrates in a whirlwind of white as the globe goes dark. Blue sticks it into one of his many pockets, and retrieves a crumpled cigarette, lighting it with a snap of his fingertips. The flame glows briefly blue with heat before he snuffs it out between thumb and forefinger, and the pleasant burning sensation fills his lungs.
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Literature
FFM 2016, July 28 - The Sins of Man
The world has a depth to it that is unfathomable until you gaze upon the stars and truly understand the vastness of space. The ancients shielded themselves by imagining celestial spheres practically close enough to touch were one to climb a mountain high enough. The moderns defied it by building rocket ships and setting course for the moon and the planets, defying the deep, deep pit we were all born in.
We thought: if we can climb out of the suffocating trench of our homeworld, if we can soar free and unencumbered up above, we will also free ourselves from all the things we needed in the pit. Religion. Sacrifice. Pain. Blood. Hunger. Harvest. Children to replace those who die of disease, war, and murder. In our eagerness, we built the ships larger and larger, more and more powerful, even as the world around us became worse. We did not make the connection between our industry, and the horrors we sought to flee.
When we left, we did so with nuclear-bomb-powered vessels, blasting the atmo
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Literature
FFM 2016 28: The Man in the Painting
The sun is just about to rise when I arrive in the office. I immediately notice the long painting propped against the floor. I’ve been bugging Alicia for a while now to liven up the place, perhaps with potted flowers or a nude statuette, but this seems even better. The man in the painting smiles at me, a windswept impressionist landscape glowing behind him. I must compliment Alicia on her superb choice.
I hear a click and a creak from the outer office. She must have just arrived. I go over to greet her good morning.
“You’re earlier than usual today, Sir,” Alicia comments.
“These days, if one wishes to avoid the traffic jams, one must take extraordinary measures.”
“Indeed, Sir. I’ll need to sleep in the parking lot if I want to be earlier than the boss next time.”
I chuckle. “I like the painting, by the way. I would have accidentally dropped it in the paper shredder if I didn’t, but luckily you know my taste so well. The
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Literature
FFM28: Blark's Grimwyrms
The egg was lavender with silver spots. It was six feet tall and roughly four feet wide. It was the only one of its kind when it landed on the White House front lawn.
But a few hours later, there were seventeen. The next day there were four hundred and twenty. By the end of the week there were forty seven thousand in all parts of the world.  The shell was impenetrable It was too thick to scan.
No one could guess what was growing inside.
For the first month, everything was fine. But strange.
Then, the grass around them started to wither. The trees died. The scientists brave enough to study them sickened---the first to die did so on a Tuesday. And the eggs did nothing. They just sat there, looking ridiculous.
They didn't even give off a proper amount of radiation to be deadly. There was no excuse. They should have been harmless.
But they weren't.
By the end of the summer, much of the world was uninhabitable. The people who were well enough to move, did. They left their houses. They
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Literature
FFM 2016, July 26 - Suicide Is Murder
Mauve smashed open the window so hard the glass shattered, showering her with the pieces as she climbed through. A moment later the Thought Police broke down the door.
"Mauve Henderson, stop right there! You are under arrest!" The cry came after her as she barrelled down the fire escape as fast as her bare feet could take her.
She didn't stop to ask why; whatever reason they had, the whole case had already gone to trial, in front of a jury, which had decided she was guilty of some thought crime or another. All that remained was actually apprehending her and putting her in jail, which would simultaneously pre-empt the crime and punish her for the thoughts that would - so the precogs said - eventually lead to the crime she was going to commit.
The last bit before the street she had to navigate by climbing the half-ladder as far down as she could, and then hanging with her arms from the last rung. The drop was still considerable, and the asphalt beneath heavy. Her escape, and the shouting
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Literature
FFM 2016, July 25 - Loop
PART 1
You hear a knocking on the door. You look to Ramirez with surprise. Everyone is definitely inside the station. Who...?
Go check (4)
Ignore (5)
Make a dash for the gun (7)
PART 2
You snatch the gun from mid-air. Without stopping to think, without hesitation, you point it at his head and squeeze the trigger. For revenge? Just in case? To silence witnesses? You don't even know. The recoil sends the gun flying away again, but your aim is true. The bullet tears into your companion's skull, shattering it. Blood pours out as he floats there. Shouldn't he be pushed back? Shouldn't he...his dead eyes look at you.
You decide to put him inside a space suit, to contain the bleeding and to store the body until you can return to Earth. "It was an accident." You mutter hopelessly. You know this was no accident.
Close your eyes (14)
PART 3
You rush to the command module, and the sight that meets you is as shocking as the one you left behind. Like a suit-less copy, Ramirez i
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So hi we made a gofundme thing (that's a lie we felt too greedy to make a thing our friend had to make it for us) to help us get back on our feet after all of the abuse and homelessness and the still fighting-with-the-DWP-because-they-don't-think-we-deserve-any-disability-benefits.

I know most of y'all are probably broke af too but it would be super helpful if you could just share this places? Thank you :love:

-Lyrrie

Pride

LGBTQ+ AND PROUD

Made with pride by the DeviantArt community BROWSE ALL ART

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:iconladylincoln:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner Dec 17, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Happya2 by Alimera

I hope you have a beautiful day, dearheart! :heart:
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:iconmalintra-shadowmoon:
Malintra-Shadowmoon Featured By Owner Dec 17, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy Birthday :heart:
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:iconsuvi-iloa:
Suvi-Iloa Featured By Owner Dec 17, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Happiest b-day Shy shrimp : Thanks 
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:iconbattlefairies:
BATTLEFAIRIES Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2018
Hello, thank you for Watching me!
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:iconmemnalar:
Memnalar Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2018
Right out of the gate! Thank you!  :heart:  :pumpkin:
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:icontheskaboss:
TheSkaBoss Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
:la: :la:
I loves me some Halloween! :iconpumpkinlaplz:

-Lyrrie
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:iconsrsmith:
SRSmith Featured By Owner Aug 15, 2018   Writer
Thanks for the :+fav: on 'Zen and the Art of Self Repair'!
Happy Thursday!
:)
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:icondomaex:
Domaex Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
How have I not been following you?? I gotta fix this.
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:icontheskaboss:
TheSkaBoss Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Riiight?! We had that same problem! :P

-Lyrrie
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:iconrieal-dragonsbane:
Rieal-Dragonsbane Featured By Owner Jul 29, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Aaa! How are you going through so many of my old stories? I'm so honoured. Love 
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