As I heard the low‚ moaning cry of Fortunato I began to grow irritated. “Montresor‚” said Fortunato. “What!!” I yelled. “Please‚” cried Fortunato‚ “Please don’t do this I am sorry I ever wronged you.” I began to become angry at these words. He is not sorry! Why would he apologize? As I kept thinking I kept hearing Fortunato cry. “Stop‚” I screamed “Stop this madness!” Fortunato then stopped‚ he sat there staring at me‚ with a blank face‚ surprised by my outburst. “I am sorry Montresor‚” he remarked
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Waking up in the morning‚ I didn’t want to leave the bed. It felt nice to sleep in a bed. Taking a look at the time‚ it was about five in the morning. Stretching my arms and legs‚ I sat up and pulled the covers off and put my feet on the floor. Walking into the bathroom‚ I turned on the light and looked at my appearance‚ using my fingers to comb my hair out‚ I pulled the two pieces on the sides and on top and pulled half of my hair into a bun. Coming out of my bathroom‚ I walked over to where I
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“That’s our suspect? That scrawny looking thing?” I asked in disbelief. Nichols was next to me sipping precinct coffee. “Yep. It’s James the ex-boyfriend.” I turned to him. “Doesn’t look like the kind to burn someone‚” I point out. “We found rope‚ matches‚ and gas at his dorm room.” Nichols and I stepped out and into the room. James looked up at the intrusion and followed me with his eyes as I sat down. “So James‚” Nichols began‚ “Tell us about your relationship with Angelica Browning.” James’
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** Based on a dream that I had. We were in a room and it was really dark. Really‚ really‚ really‚ really dark. It was day time but not in that closet. This is how the conversation went. “You know that if I were to date a co-worker he has to absolutely be at least my height or taller.” “Oh I like short girls but most of the girls shorter than me anyways.” “Yeah but it’s a lot of short boys our age.” “It’s a lot of short girls our age.” “Yeah I see your point.” “Like you‚ you short but you not
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“I know she put pressure on you to do that; she told me the whole story. I know you were just trying to respect her. But you have to believe me when I say you have to listen to me in situations like that. Your mom … she just …” he paused trying to express his thoughts. “Before your mom got sick‚ she was so … full of life. So independent. So energetic. It’s really‚ really hard for her to accept how she is now‚ because that is not really her. She still feels the same on the inside‚ but her outside
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“My house is the green one across from the field at the foot of the mountain. I’m telling you that I saw it and the next day they said old man Basil was missing. I saw it carry him up the mountainside. When I called the sheriff‚ they wouldn’t even come out and talk to me.” The elderly woman finished pumping her gas and said. “I was looking out my window this morning and I saw a monstrous looking thing going across the field carrying something‚” the elderly lady said. “You probably saw a reflection
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As he stepped out into the soggy weather‚ Dylan immediately felt the wet‚ humidifying air compressing in his lungs. He just received the call from his father telling him and his sister‚ Jaiden‚ to come to the shop. He shouted for his sister to come downstairs. “Dad is expecting us there in about 15 minutes. Let’s go.” “You know I’m older than you right?” “Yeah‚ by 3 minutes.” They headed out the door straight for R&G Shoes‚ his father’s business. It only took them 10 minutes‚ taking 5
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When we approached the bar‚ there was only one stool available. I told Dawn that she could sit down‚ but she insisted that I have the stool. Maybe she didn’t want to sit her bare ass on the cold seat. I wasn’t sure‚ and I didn’t ask her why because the other bartender handed Dawn a shot and she gave me one also. We downed the shot with ease and swallowed another before I remembered that Shay was waiting for me. “Dawn‚ how do you get to the deejay booth?” “Do you see those stairs?” She asked as she
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It’s 9 in the morning on a Friday‚ hours before Sakata Gintoki is anywhere near the peak of wakefulness. Supressing a yawn‚ he leans his back against a dirty brick wall in a nondescript Kabukicho alley‚ contemplating whether he should wait out the company of his friends or go back home to the comfort of his futon and dreams of a certain blonde-haired neighbor. He closes his eyes‚ remembering the feeling of Tsukuyo’s skin- skimming his cheek‚ under his own fingertips‚ on his tongue. “Ahahaha‚ Kintoki
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In “The Fictional Writer”‚ Maribeth Fischer describe how Natalie‚ the person she thought was her friend‚ who claimed to be a well-known writer who had sold many books and was living the life most writers wished for‚ turned out to be a pathological liar. Natalie told countless lies to everyone around her and described her life as something that would make others envious when the reality was that she was lying about everything and was actually describing what she desired her life to be life. Fischer
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