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April 17, 2007


Getting caught by surprise.

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Dave: The Pause that Refreshes

"You realize this is wrong," he said.

She smiled, and almost purred. "But so right."

A chuckle.  "I'm just saying, you know the consequences if we get caught."

"Ooooh -- 'consequences.'  Big word.  Big --"  She pressed her lips against him, and the rest of her body as well.

Several long moments, or perhaps hours, passed.  At last, breaking for air, he said, "Well.  I suppose there's no reward with no risk."

"No pain, no gain."

"Well, I hope the pain's minimized."

"Not me."

He chuckled again, then abruptly they were kissing once more, breathless, frantic.

"Ahem," came a voice from the doorway. "Am I interrupting?"

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David: Autobiographical?! I Have No Idea What You're Talking About

He was an hour late, so he parked in the lot on the opposite side of the building from his boss’s office, where his approach would remain unseen. He slipped through the fire door into a rarely used stairwell. Five floors was a lot, but being seen by a passing coworker was worse. Plus, it opened about 20 steps from his cubicle, instead of having to walk past the receptionist.

He cracked open the door. The coast was clear. Almost home free! He stepped out, ducked below the tops of the cube walls, and made a break for it.


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Jeff R.:Introspection Can Be a Killer

Nobody to blame but myself. Caught up thinking about Sasha, I didn't notice the Benz until I was on the offramp. By the time I reached the stoplight, he was so close his snaggle-teeth filled my rearview mirror.

The light turned. The Mustang ahead of me sat there. Damn; I was more distracted than I thought if they got a lead and a follow. I hit the floorboards before I realized I'd seen a barrel. The windshield's glass showered my back as I groped under the passenger seat. Not for a gun; I was already wearing three. For a grenade.

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Ted: Inner Voice

The doorbell and the telegram surprised her. Hearing from her dad after thirty eight years surprised her. Who even sends telegrams anymore, anyway?

She read the telegram. Well, guess I'll go. Packed an overnight bag, rented a car, and drove out to New Mexico.

The desert was a wonderland of color. The night air was colder than she thought it would be. This is a freaking desert, why the hell do I feel like I need a sweater?

She parked and steadied her nerves. She poured the gasoline and lit the match. I wonder where I can find a motel.

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