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11/05/1962
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Sample V-13: The Inheritance of Ash(Southern Gothic) The Blackwood Estate was a rotting tooth in the jaw of the Mississippi Delta. It was a place of weeping willows, Spanish moss that hung like funeral shrouds, and a history of violence that had soaked into the very soil. Silas, the exiled bastard of the Blackwood line, returned to the manor not for love, but for the ledger of debts he believed would buy his freedom. In the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 ReviewsPlease log in to like, share and comment!
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Nothing Left to FeedFrank Kowalski sat outside his trailer every evening with a beer and watched the raccoons come out of the woods. There were three of them now—big ones, the kind that live in trailer parks and learn to open trash cans and don't care if you're watching. He used to have a cat. A calico. She died two years ago and he didn't tell anyone. Not Dave. Not the daughter. He just dug a hole behind the...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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Jack Callahan woke up in a world that had ended thirty years ago.He knew this because the newspapers in the pawnshop on Spring Street told him so, and the pawnshop owner, a man named Sal who had seen everything and was impressed by nothing, confirmed it with a wave of his hand and a shrug that said: what's the point of arguing with paper? 1977. The year was 1977. Jack had been in a game for thirty years—a game he hadn't known was a game, playing by rules he...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Gambler's GraveThe salons of 19th-century Vienna were places of velvet and vice, where fortunes were won and lost on the turn of a card. Alexander Vance was the most dangerous man in these rooms. He didn't gamble for money; he gambled for "destiny." He believed that the universe was a grand casino, and that one could "cheat" the house by placing a bet with their own existence. Alexander had spent years...0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews
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The Void's Embrace (V-14)The world was a smudge of grey and ochre, a landscape that shifted according to the whims of a dying mind. There were no horizons here, only a series of floating islands connected by bridges of frozen smoke. This was the Liminal Space, the place where consciousness goes when it can no longer sustain the illusion of reality. Arthur was the only inhabitant of the island of Logic. He spent his...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Baker's ChoiceThe rain in Brooklyn doesn't wash anything clean. It just makes the grime slicker. I learned that in '45, standing in a trench outside Remagen, watching rain turn the battlefield into a river of mud and blood. I came home with a medal and a limp. The medal didn't pay rent. The limp meant I couldn't stand at the oven all day like I used to. So I opened a bakery. Small place on Atlantic Avenue....0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews
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Title: The Shadow of the LampGenre: Southern Gothic Caleb was the same as the mud of the Mississippi Delta: thick, brown, and stepped on by everyone. He lived in the ruins of the Thorne plantation, a place where the ghosts of the past were more present than the living, and the air was heavy with the scent of jasmine and decay. His cousins treated him like a stray dog, giving him the scraps of their attention and the worst...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
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The Currency of AffectionIn the high-altitude world of Manhattan's financial district, love is not a feeling; it is an asset. Julian Thorne was a master of the trade. As a rising star at a top-tier investment bank, he viewed every human interaction as a transaction. He didn't look for a partner; he looked for a strategic acquisition. Clara was the perfect acquisition. A dancer of immense talent and social ambition, she...0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews
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The Patient from BelowThe asylum had been closed for twenty years before the Sleep came, but the children of Boston knew it by reputation the way children know about forbidden places: through whispers and warnings and the peculiar silence that falls over a room when someone mentions the Holloway Asylum in a voice that suggests they have been told not to speak of it at all. Theo Ashworth had never been inside. He was...0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews
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THE DARK CIRCUITThe radio in the break room had been broken for three weeks and Jack Murdock kept meaning to fix it and kept not meaning to fix it, which was typical of Jack Murdock—he kept meaning to do things and kept not doing them, which was how you ended up thirty-four years old, drafted into a war you didn't understand, fixing electrical equipment in a hole beneath the earth. "Come on, you old bitch," he...0 Comments 0 Shares 9 Views 0 Reviews
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THE FLOOD WITHINChoice One. The drone was dying. Kael could hear its distress ping — a thin electronic wail somewhere in the submerged ruins of the old Southbank Centre — and they knew that approaching a damaged Eridani unit was approximately the least intelligent thing a person could do in the flooded zones, right up there with swimming at night or drinking unfiltered Thames water. The corporate drones...0 Comments 0 Shares 11 Views 0 Reviews
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