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Deep Blue Eyes

Putting down the knife and pulled on her clothing. Her pants were up, she shirt was laying over them as neatly as possible as she nervously opened the door. Silently she cursed herself for not checking the peephole beforehand. There a large man stood before her. Tall and muscular. Short hair, longer beard. Eyes that looked sunken in. He studied her as if he wanted to recognize her. At first he said nothing. After a moment of silence, as Belinda was about to ask him what he wanted, “your arm,” he said, “it’s bleeding.”

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A Not So Silent Night

His loud sounds needed to be silenced. There was only so much she could take. Aurora realized this was partially her fault. She was the one who had put him, and herself, in the situation. But she couldn’t take it anymore. Every time he howled, the sound pierced her body. It had become almost constant. Before she could sing or hum or talk just a little louder to drown him out. But now, it was just too damn much.

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A Night in River Ridge

The green grass so perfectly in disarray it looked as though someone had positioned each blade by hand. Throughout the healthy grass were long pieces of pale yellow dead grass uprooted from the last mowing. Occasionally there was the head of a dandelion long since blown. Two feet, a pair of them, were laying in the grass. The soles of them facing upward and slightly out. Small patches of flesh were visible. The right index toe, not the tip, but the shaft, the part that never touched the floor; the inside of the left pinky toe; the inside sole of left foot, the arch of this foot was higher than that of the right; and the right ankle bone, barely visible in the picture due to the angle, but if you studied the photo you would see the pale white skin glowing like the silver lining of clouds in the sky. The rest of the feet were a dried, sticky red.