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April 23, 2007


Today's theme should feature animals.

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David: If You Can't Get It All Together...

The guidebook specifically said not to look bears directly in the eye—they took it as a challenge—but I did it anyway. The bear was standing right in front of the tent where Susan and the baby were still asleep.

My heartbeat drummed in my ears. I maintained eye contact while I knelt down and felt for a weapon, any weapon. The bear trundled in place, rotating away from the tent to face me fully. My hand closed around something; I lifted it into my peripheral vision: a stick of firewood.

The book never said what to do next.

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Dave: Domestic Quarrel

She stared at him.  "You got -- a cat?"

Roger stroked the tabby.  "Yeah."


"I like cats.  They're clean.  They're pretty.  They're independent.  They make a nice noise."

"That's what you have me for," Chrys said, scowling.


"Cats are sneaky, sinister, and often hosts of dark spirits.  A dog --"

He chuckled.  "Dogs bark too much, with our clientele.  Cats --"

The front door of the office jingled.  The cat abruptly turned into a small, furry cloud of teeth and claws, buzzsawing out of Roger's lap to dash behind the file cabinets. 

Chrys raised an eyebrow, politely silent.   Roger reached for the drawer with the iodine.

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Ted: Duck, Duck, Goose


"The Phantom Gooser strikes again!" thought Edward as he ducked down below the serpentine arrangement of clothing hangers. The elephantine mall afforded him a perfect feeding ground for his ravenous appetites. The rabbit's warren of back passeges along with his security key gave him plenty of opportunity to stirke mongoose swift then fade like a cockroach.

The job was ideal for another reason. The food court where the mall rats hung out gave him plenty of pigeons on which to prey. So many high school girls, and some middle schoolers, loved getting off 'free' after they got caught shoplifting.

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Jeff R.: Symbol-Minded

There is a bear in the woods.

For some people the bear is easy to see. Others don't see it at all. Some say the bear is tame. Some say it's vicious. Others say it's an extended metaphor, or perhaps an allegory of some kind. But really, isn't an allegory just as dangerous? Do you know how many teeth those things have? I don't. Would you count them all? Since no one knows, isn't it smart to be as strong as the bear? Or the allegory? Or the wombat; those things are mean. And don't get me started on squirrels.

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Jim: The Seeker II

The clouds were not dark like the thunderstorms of his homeland. But, iron-gray, they blanketed the sky and poured down rain as if from barrels. Drenched, Weh fled toward the nearest shelter.

The barn was a clumsy erection of old boards that may have been designed so that no part of its interior would remain dry. Weh slumped down on soggy straw between a pair of shaggy oxen, hoping the beasts’ broad sides would keep away most of the rain.

“I am coming, Father,” he whispered, shaking miserably. Yet despite the cold dampness, sleep washed over him like a wave.

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