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January 11, 2007


Today's entries should involve as many synonyms as you can cram into them while keeping them lucid descriptions of events.

Well, lucid-ish. No moreso than usual, anyway.

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David: Parlor Trick

John stepped into the drawing room. “Marsha!” he cried, striding across the parlor toward her. “How could you?”

“How could I what?” Marsha queried.

John paced before her, seething. “Running around on me, that’s what! With my own brother.”

“Oh, that,” Marsha admitted. “It wasn’t that hard, really.”

John stopped in his tracks and spun on his heels. “What?”

“He is your identical twin,” she acknowledged. “He believed I thought he was you.”

“And you let him!” John shouted. “That’s it. I’m leaving you. Enjoy walking the streets.” John turned away and rushed back out the way he had come.

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Jeff R.:Young Doctors In Bad Victorian Prose

When the rattle ended, Penelope gasped. "No! You can't! I won't let you!"

Doctor Conrad sighed. The case looked hopeless, but he continued to flog Petrov's heart. Where was Nate?

Nate, the intern, burst into the room, panting and wheezing. "The crash cart," he said between breaths, "Is on it's way."

"Don't just stand there," huffed Doctor Conrad. "Give him mouth-to-mouth."

Nate went to do so, but Penelope, who had been hyperventalating for some time, swooned and fainted, and Nate had to catch her before she hit her head.

"Breathe, damnit, Breathe," said Doctor Conrad, but Petrov never did again.

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