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Mass Confusion

The night was cool, yet warm, dark, yet seemingly bright. The heavy winds blew across the motionless day. But yet

"Oink! Squeel!" the sounds came from a live hog eating contest in Birmaville, Texas. One of the contestants was Bobo Bilbixby, the

The laboratory was quiet when Dr. Smailew screamed his discovery. "Of course! A change in pigmentation

"Hello. My name is Ringo Migorshki. I am dumb and really stupid. My hobby is collecting dust and

His mother had told him to do it. His brother had too. But he looked wierd with them sticking out

Someday the world will be better. But then someday must be tomorrow and tommorrow will never be since tommorrow is today

The spider squirmed when its mate touched it. The stove became warmer as the scream was again

Sam said "Never be redundant or repeat what you just said" as she touched

The evening sun slowly sank as the people of the world moaned in sadness. The news had now covered the earth; the news that T. G. Taft, the famous author, had been murdered by a very confused mob. It was inevitable, I guess. But you tend to think. Did he really die, or is this just another one of his stories? Can we accept his or anybody elses word on the subject? Come to think of it, can you really prove that you're not just another one of his stories?


 © 1983, 

T. G. Taft

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