Tuesday, Mar 31st

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NO GREATER LOVE

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While on our honey moon in Florida we visited Ponce de Leon's Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park.  After an exhausting but exciting tour, we rested on a park bench and sipped a cool drink.

Across from us sat a shabbily dressed middle aged gentleman, a dog rested its chin blissfully on his lap.  Next to their bench was a make-shift stand with small bottles of clear liquid. An attached sign read,   

 

WATER FROM THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH $.39

 

 QUANTITY LIMITED      

 

MONEY BACK GUARANTEE

Six-Word Science Fiction Novels

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He froze with fear. It descended.

 

The third arm never grows back.

 

Catching the planet was fairly easy.

 

She kept galaxies inside her shoe.

 

Nitrogen based life is more artistic.

 

The ship needed more asteroid dust.

 

(Inspired by a writing catalyst challenge from iO9 Webzine)

Festive Spirits

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The snow had lingered time enough to accrue all all manner of impurities. The passing of the days allowed layers of snow to dance towards the earth and initially dust, then blanket the town and loose the purity of the silence with which it had fallen. The impurities crushed and solidified by the feet, tyres and ploughs of a town determined by the importance of all menial and meaningful activities and engagements.

Room

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It was at that point that I noticed everything. The trash falling over the lip of the can. Wrinkles in the sheets no longer moving. The car driving by outside. The kicking-in of the heating system. It was stuffy in the room. It was always stuffy in the room. It was that way the first time we walked in. It was at an open house tour. You commented on how much work the place needed. All I could see was the original crown molding. Character. So much Character. You smiled and six months later we moved in.

We broke up and now i feel shitty...

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     The night before you left, still January transcended the hotel curtain as you pressed up against the altar of my back and whispered About time you got to sleep, you brushed my hair beside my nightshirt and put your lips upon my neck, mistook my ceased toss and turning for paralysis as opposed to simple lack of motion,