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I hated him. It was mostly his face that I hated. No. It was everything. It was his being. The face was just the symbol of what I hated. It was the most outward and salient sign of his inner being, the concept behind the visage, and that concept was a corrupt and hypocritical one. A face hides everything, and the more contrast between face and inner being, the more the mask diverged from what it covered, the more hideous the creature. But don't you want to know the object of my hatred? I can't bear to say his name, so I will just say that we...
The second lot of signals came through the radio transmitter at dawn. Frost had collected on the dish. Dr. Stanley Leber. wondered if this had been causing interference. He had been awake since three in the morning, receiving the messages, and sending them through to the decoders over at the university. A team of physicists had been working with the top cryptographers in the country for two months, ever since the first feint signals began. It started with a single sound, coming from a galaxy 30 billion light years away, near the reaches of ...
There was something about her. Felton Landry could sense it when she walked into his office on that sultry Saturday afternoon. It was more than just the cheap perfume. She smelled like a hooker at a wedding. But that wasn't what made his skin crawl. It was her gait. It was her alien way of entering a room and sitting down. Was this how she always walked into a room? He'd have to test out the theory. Maybe he could ask her to come have cocktails at Bianco's. No. She'd want something cheaper. A double scotch at some seedy bar. Would she walk i...
He was dying for a fix, just dying for a hit. He could kill for a fix, just kill for a hit. He could stab someone. Stab. He was off his rocker and he hated it. Nobody ever loved it. Any see you next Tuesday who ever said he loved it was a flaming see you next Tuesday. It had been so long since he'd had a hit that the dogs had stopped speaking to him. They used to say, G'day, Joel, but with dog accents. He had tried to explain it to Samantha one night after they had just had a quicky and were enjoying a PFL (post effing light-up). He had mana...
This story takes place in the future. Should the characters in the story bear any resemblance to people yet to exist, and these potential persons read this account of themselves, please be made aware that my lawyers have assured me that I cannot be held liable to a defamation suit. If the law in regard to this should change against me I hereby retract all that I have said about Dr. Rupert Archibald Malick. His senses came to life every time he entered the room. It was just as if he, Sebastian Semaphore, were newly created. He thought that i...
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