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Worth

Vision so lovely, not through these eyes. Into the mirror, see not the view of others. Weathered and worn, years replace dreams. Visage unpleasing, only to me. Use to none, reason to be. Heart of gold, such venomous lies. Breath exhaled, another day. Push and pull, forward to go. Wishes release, slave to this place. Forgotten youth, forgotten dreams. A single flash, the mirror has changed. Willfulness gone, gauntlet I run. Trials failed, failure born. Feelings locked, inside breaking. If only,...

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The Vicious Cycle of Life or How I Became a Man

The Vicious Cycle of Life or How I Became a Man

The unsettling sound of a board against flesh resounded in the garage, followed by a very loud obscenity. The dust that had been living comfortably on the shelf made itself into a gray snowstorm. Ted stood in the midst of chaos. He removed his dust-covered ball cap and glasses. Left behind was a bizarre version of a mask. One hand ran over his face in disgust. He moved the shelf that had assaulted him to discover a photo album. Its cover opened when he picked it up; the pictures of his youth...

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A Cup of Joe and a Second Chance to Go Please

A Cup of Joe and a Second Chance to Go Please

There was nothing I loved better than the aroma of Summer in the city. The scents of soft pretzels drifted under my nose, enticed my senses. It all made me glad to be alive. I sat in a bistro chair at the corner of Santa Monica Boulevard. In front of me, was the Sunday Times. This edition the paparazzi was going crazy over Bella Mia, a former showgirl/lounge singer, from back in the heyday of the Twin Cities. There wasn’t a playbill ten years ago that didn’t carry that girl’s name all...

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The Gift

The Gift

Perhaps it was the mixtures of cinnamon scented pinecones, or the music of Christmas that was causing my migraine, but the intense pain was slowing getting worse. Step by step, I became more and more agitated as my head throbbed in time with each step I took. December twenty-fourth. Another day, and it would be doomsday. This happened every Christmas. The amount of stress and commercialism was hardly worth the trouble. Today I would have loved to remain home, enjoying some quality time with my...

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Don’t Judge a Book By it’s Cover

Don’t Judge a Book By it’s Cover

A puff of air escaped my lips, more out of frustration than the need to breathe. Another one of my “Off Days” shot in the rump. I had just gotten a bad inspection on my car, and was in no mood to be anywhere near this horrid place. In fact, I would rather be stuck at work twenty-four, seven than to have to be here. My now illegal Fundi Fuze drove through the lowest street in the once thriving town of Leston, Pennsylvania. I looked to the passenger’s side of the car after I heard a slight...

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