"Pocket Watch" PHoto by Artiom Gorgan CC BY 2.0
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The Maze

Wind blew along the corridors, crackling with heat. It snuck moisture from the bricks. In its wake it left the crinkled skeletons of once-green ivy. A girl stumbled along with the wind. Tears and snot wet her cheeks and upper lip, transforming into salt-crusted trails as the wind dried them.

A knotted rope on a boat gunnel
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Unmoored

I’d woken up exhausted. My bed was a rumpled mass of sheets and popcorn crumbs and melted smarties. I hauled myself upright, stumbled against the dresser, and stared bleary-eyed at my reflection. The man who looked back at me was a stranger, cut, stitched, wrenched to life like some unholy Frankenstein. I laughed. The sound gurgled from my throat, bounced like a hyena over the walls, and died when it saw the wedding ring.