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Short-Story.Me!

The Leap

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She stands, contemplating her surroundings. The breeze dies down, the traffic diminishes, not even animals stir. Such calmness outlines her. She stands with the rail harassing her back. She leans away from it, alleviating the profound pressure of that railing. She stands, head high, eyes open. As she stands, she conjures up the moments leading her here.

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Eight Seconds

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I have 8 seconds to live.

When I reached out you didn't reach back

With each second that remains I'll tell you of what I am and how I ended up here.

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The Town

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The town is, was, and will be. It has been there since before anyone can remember, or records show. The town had survived the ravages of untold ages and weathered storms the like of which none could recall. And of all its queer inhabitants, none were stranger or more reclusive than the withered old man who lived on the highest hill in the town. He had lived there, in a creaky old house with a broken-down porch and broken windows, for longer than anyone alive could remember.

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Best Scout on Li

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I should feel cold. Even with a full covering of animal skins under my white leather armor, lying in two feet of snow is telling my mind I should be freezing. So I fight the urge, as right now I have no time for that. With my soft leather helmet matching my armor and the bow wrapped in white cloth, these horrible creatures should be only able to see my green eyes peering over the edge of the indentation my body makes.

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Letting it Go

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Randall sat at the bar of an upscale steak house in downtown Boston. He stared at the amber, rye whiskey in his Manhattan, and sadly jiggled the cocktail pick laden with three cherries.

He’d made a hasty exit from the firm holiday party. Tom sat next to him nursing a gin and tonic, after Randall had sent him an urgent text message to meet at the bar. An old law school friend, he owed Randall many times over.

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