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And to think, the number of fruits we skin alive each day.
"Does everyone have a pencil?"

The teacher's chalk wilts in her hand, much like the tired heads of her students. All save one.

"I don't have a pencil." Time tips its chair back. "I don't need a pencil. I leave my mark on people. Places. Things. Never(more)
      Callum's eyes are cooked, red-rimmed and pink in the center like a medium rare steak. He sits with a pile of wadded up tissues on his desk. The office smells like a day old subway sandwich, something Callum's Febreeze had yet to take care of.

     (more)
       I need to turn...NOW

      The steering wheel hums in my hand. It pulses, thrumming like the deep base of a guitar.

      Lights skid past. I can smell Reynold's leaden smoke as he flares by to my left. A cig(more)
"You know what? Don't even bother coming home at all if you're going to come looking like that."

"Evangeline!" The name tastes metallic on Gerald's tongue, stinging. His wife from glares at him. Full on daggers. No, scratch that, full on ninja stars, nunchucks, katanas. An entire arsenal(more)
How to Make Good Banana Bread:

Step 1 - You must first find your bananas. Conquer them. Show them brown mush of their comrades. Smash their little banana souls.
(more)
"Will you stop playing that stupid video game?"

The question is extinguished by rapid fire tapping. Alphonse is so close he can taste the pharoah's mummified corpse on his tongue. BAM. THUD. One more level and the treasure is his.

The Tomb Raiders logo flashes up (more)
     There's a girl who sits by the upstairs window - do you see her? Just a shadow. She's left a breath of fog where her sigh has grabbed the glass. I think she's nice, that girl.
     She and I were friends once, back when we played on(more)
I quite like my sister.
She's perfect. I'm not.
I love her and it's that simple.
Some people have this core belief that what you wear reflects who you are. Clothes are a statement. They say you shouldn't be seen in scuffed cowboy boots, or your collection of vintage bow ties.
But shit, it was 99 cents.
You know which one.
So airbrushed in her photos - photoshop perfect.
But I know Victoria's Secret.
She isn't real.
The loud ones sit in the back, quiet in the front. That's the way it is. The seats are elephant skin, graffitied upon with schoolhouse abandon. One kid's drool drips from his lip and waits by the door.

Welcome to my school bus. (more)
I've read so many books on it. Word choice. Phrasing. When adverbs are (truly) necessary. How to construct the perfect, laboriously lengthy, sentence that plucks a reader up and places them by your salvaged campfire. Or a sentence that gets straight to the point. Quickly. And how to contrast(more)
“It’s empty.”

“What?”

“It’s god damned empty, Kareem.”
(more)