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by Max Ritvo 1500 words, 3 comments, on Dec 28 3:43 AM 2006
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by Max Ritvo 2400 words, 3 comments, on Jul 1 4:00 AM 2006
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by Max Ritvo 200 words, 2 comments, on Jun 11 2:09 AM 2006
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The Burning of the Cathedral of Mirrors.
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A cold morning air, heavy with anticipation. His slender fingers, dull sallow wisps rosed at the tips from the bitter snap of a gray winter that wouldn’t end. Ten quivering mat
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Down the cobwebbed corridors from which my brain is composed, there lies, nestled snugly between a memory and a feeling, a dilapidated shack. Two rotted rooms and a ragged roof
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Look and you shall see, Seek and you shall find… that’s what they say… isn’t it?
Well just who are “they” anyways? -
It was on a muggy August day, circa 1837, that I, Laurence Maurice Barrows, released my first cry upon this earth. My mother held me tight in her arms, imprinting her scent dee
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