Fall 2009

The stupider the president the more power you arrange for him.
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Sonja slapped her sister. How could she shed tears for the past?
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What can go heartbreakingly wrong, and what would you do?
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A little music. An empty bottle of whiskey. It’s a little like cheating.
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An owl, as large and incongruous in the night sky as a flying man.
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She does not know within a decade she will unload a slug into her mouth.
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“Happy? Nabokov died yesterday, we all move up a notch.”
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