The Globs

They’re coming in on big waves in high tide, translucent, bubble-shaped, seemingly inert,
clinging to ice plant, debris, litter, on the backs of other sea life, scurrying in the sand, burying themselves deep, nourished on sand life, hydrated on salt water absorbed through porous membranes.

Poisonous to touch, impossible to destroy, emerging as the new life, the new species from mother water, arriving simultaneously on seven continents.

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Closure

They met online, emailed, talked on the phone for over a year, and finally, they were going to meet. Her heart pounded as she sat waiting, her hand in her pocket on the gun she would use to kill the man who had lured her baby sister to her death.

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Scent of a Man

She checks the answering machine as soon as she enters the house, something she’s done for more years than she can remember, hoping against hope that he will finally call, and she can be happy again.

Trying to absorb his scent from his clothes, she sniffs and sniffs until her nose feels raw, and then the crushing reality once again slams her upside her head, and crushes her heart: Her son is dead.

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Zombie flash-mob devastated by surprisingly well-prepared mental patients.

Tragedy marred an otherwise peaceful and routine zombie flash-mob in Vancouver, BC, when a troop of heavily armed schizophrenics laid waste to the costumed celebrators with guns, torches, and clubs.

Said police, this is what comes of crying wolf.

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Love In The Time Of Recession

Alfredo hurried home earlier than usual, to report to his wife about his situation at work, and how he was laid off along with fifteen hundred others.

Panting for air in between sobbing and breathing, he opened the master bedroom, only to find his spouse naked in bed with another man.

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Finally Proud

She lay in bed, staring in wonder at the cover of her first book in print, and with a sleepy, soft prayer to heaven and tears in her eyes, she said, “I hope you are proud of me now, Mom.”
When her heavy eyelids closed, she was still in that place between being awake and dreaming, and she heard a soft, distant whispering in her ear say, “I always was.”
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Maybe

Jay’s facebook post prompted me to visit the website of “two sentences stories” where I found wonderful and entertaining submissions by clever writers.

Alas, I can only read and wonder if I too can manage to cram certain thoughts into a two-sentence written format and, perhaps, win a small prize – probably not.

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