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Beyond the circle of warmth were pools of water, floating in each one was a scarf, a hat, and blood clots from their victims. Soon the generator would run out of fuel. Soon the circle would cool. Soon the snowmen would find their form again. Soon there would be nowhere warm left for her to hide. The Captain stands delighted in the middle of the playground.

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At the end of the row there were three units converted into premises for a shadow garage, repairing cars for those who could not afford to pay men in matching overalls. Two ghosts lurked inside.

The first was the shadow of something Bbw looking for someone with great oral skills had hidden here long before people cleared forests from the land, the second whose body had turned to yellowed bones between the pebbledash walls and grass bank that rose toward the distant towers. The latter spirit did not want to be there. There was no vengeance or message to be carried, just confusion and fear. No one had found the body.

No one had even noticed the child missing, apart from Marty, looking for one thing and finding something completely different lurking amongst the spilt oil and diesel stains. Kneeling down on the floor between the two rows of garages, Marty Lonely housewives want sex Horsham his eyes and searched in the shadows for the fear clustered in upon itself, and when he found that bundle of confusion he did what needed to be done; wept and mourned a life lost and forgotten until the ghost that still lingered could see the cord and drag itself away from the council garages to somewhere better.

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They stretched them out, laying them on the ground in the hope the heat of the sun would fix them. Return the days to their pristine condition. After seeing his vandalism compounding his theft, with many hands they carried him into the fields, staked him to the soil using his own bones to hold him in place, and with words first spoken by the now long dead they left him to the crows. The valley had never been pretty. Instead it was a place of concrete and pollution, where any plants that could grow browned and wilted by the effort.

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Every year I set myself a challenge; to write thirty one flash fiction stories and post one a day for the month up to the Winter Solstice. The hall was full of smoke and magenta dust, choking the diners as they shovelled in food from the feast. Figs in aspic with a hint of saffron sat on silver platters next to quail eggs drowning in truffle sauce, each dish Sexy housewives seeking nsa Syracuse New York with the settled dirt of centuries.

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The cockroaches? Not so much. From his pocket Ben took out the mummified mouse and laid it on top of the stolen hair. The words were old ones. Family ones. Not his language, but they felt right upon his tongue.

The creature that appeared was small and shimmered. Part rodent. Part rot.