10 Minutes/Entry 19
Date: Jun 4th, 2008 2:32:20 pm - Subscribe
Mood: worn

Pain blossomed along her jaw as she ran into the door jamb. That's gonna leave a bruise. She felt her legs scrabbling for purchase on the slick, moving floor to no avail. Her hands, bruised and clumsy in the cold, wouldn't grab at the handles she'd so carefully screwed into the panels so many miles ago. Down she went. Curling into the fetal position, she instinctively covered her head with her arms. Sharp blows to her bony elbows and over the too vulnerable vertebrae left her gasping for breath through the pain.
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10 Minutes/Entry 18
Date: Jun 1st, 2008 4:58:51 pm - Subscribe
Mood: frozen

Irene looked out over the moors. The setting sun spread its magnificence across the sky.


Cat's cuddled in carriers as they slept and dreamed of large, legless mice and oceans of half and half. Bundled together for warmth and protection against the unknown worlds that waited outside. One cat, a large tom with impressive markings, stared into the aether. His golden/green eyes unblinking in the golden sun of the late summer afternoon.
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10 Minutes/Entry 17
Date: May 26th, 2008 5:35:26 pm - Subscribe
Mood: genki

Here, in the lack of sun, there are no hard edges. There are no shadows--only shadows of shadows. Those shadows' shadows lightly mark the footprint of everything in the yard. A light switched on in the garage spends itself beating against the dirt encrusted window, and leaks only a little light to the lean-to shed.

Last winter's leaves and pine needles washed up against the bulwark of the fence. The fence that lists and leans, with deep gouges from some previous property owner's dogs. Dogs? Yes, two at least. The gouges occur at vastly different heights, not explicable by one dog's standing on its hind legs.

My second grade self smiles in eternal childishness at me. Who is that little kid with the huge forehead and the eyes older than the face?
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10 Minutes/Entry 16
Date: May 24th, 2008 9:16:38 pm - Subscribe
Mood: spiffy

He stood and stared into the grey mask of the dawn. Scarred. Disfigured. But not alone. Never alone, never again. For he'd found his best friend and, best of all, she had boobs.

She ran, tying to catch the foolish man. Her hair in sodden streamers down her back. Her shoes squishing with every step.

She slammed the door as she ran out of the house. It didn't matter what the servants thought. It didn't matter that everyone thought she was mad to fall in love. It had happened, and she wasn't about to lose her second chance.

He stared at her back. For all her sweet passion from the night before, she was just as cold as all the other women who'd lusted after his fortune--but not him.
"Is that your final answer, madam?" he asked. She nodded her head. "Very well then, wife, you may remove yourself from my household this Wednesday next. You may leave with what you came."

"I'm pregnant," she said bluntly. Then she blushed.

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10 Minutes/Entry 15
Date: May 21st, 2008 12:47:26 pm - Subscribe
Mood: sniffly

Miss Flufferduum sat at the lunch counter in the back of the drugstore. Outside, angle-parked cars baked slowly in the sunshine. Jagged, chrome grills glinted in the sun.

Miss Flufferduum sipped at her fountain soda, a cherry-cola. Jim, the jerk, pulled the drink for her. He had smiled and chatted as the soda water hissed into the tall, narrow-bottomed, fluted glass. Now he was helping Mr. Whiggen choose his lunch. Something simple. Something soft. Mr. Whiggen had famously lost his teeth in the big tornado 10 years ago. He'd never replaced them. Said he didn't miss them. Much.

Miss Flufferduum looked over to the magazine stand. The latest issue of Bats Monthly enticed her with its cover, an Egyptian Rousette.
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