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#101 |
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Shortest Query Winner.
Join Date: Oct 2009
Location: Wonderland
Posts: 492
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My hogwarts letter never came, the satyrs never picked me up, and I can't the times Ive ran head first into a wardrobe. The Doctor had better have a good reason for missing my stop.
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Follow me on Twitter, and I'll return the favor! Read my inspiriring words of wisdom here. Can I get a like on Facebook? Groundhog Day Indiana Jones Fantasy: 8000/100000 Steampunk: Editing! Modern Fantasy: Rewriting. Epic Fantasy: Outlined. Urban Fantasy: Trunked. |
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#102 |
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Glittery Magenta Fish
Join Date: Mar 2013
Location: In a water bottle, swimming upwards
Posts: 44
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Haha! When dad used to smoke I'd look at him and think a jinni will pop out of the cigarette. That's why I always kept one under my pillow and prayed before I slept that in the morning I'd find a jinni waiting for me. xD
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#103 |
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Miss Conceived
Join Date: Dec 2012
Location: Lennox House
Posts: 4,112
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Mine was more mundane. I kept hoping that someone would show up and reveal that I didn't belong to my family, that it had been an awful mistake, and take me away.
When I found out we were moving from California, I kept hoping either my dance teacher or my violin teacher would tell my parents to let me stay and live with them. I looked for one or the other of them up until the van pulled away from the curb and we left for oblivion.
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The creative writing process is a lot like emotional binge and purge cycles. Can you find the Pitbull?
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#104 |
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blue eyed floozy
Join Date: May 2007
Location: St. John, Kansas
Posts: 5,542
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I used to do these mock run- aways. I'd find a peaceful destination--a spot under the bleachers at the local softball diamond; an abandoned boxcar; my Uncle Pearl's overgrown shelter belt--and then imagine living there.
I'd start a "bedroll" to take with me. Some of the "supplies" I would haul to the place and hide. There was an Army Navy Surplus store where we baby boomer kids shopped. I had a canteen, a small machete, compass, mess kit, a book on camping. Very early on a summer morning I would slip out the back door and head out, heart pounding. Sometimes I'd go on foot, sometimes on my trusty Huffy bike. I hate the cold so never considered running away in the winter. As I got older I'd get farther and farther away from home, but my nerve always ran out before I got far enough to get in real trouble. Something would spook me and I would head for home. Once, exploring on a sandpit on the Arkansas, I ran into a real runaway--a boy about fourteen, very dirty, very sad. We just stared at each other across a little neck of water. Once a friend's father packing for a fishing trip called me by name and asked me what the H I was doing on a bike that time of night-- about 4 a.m. He told me to get home or he'd call my dad. I sweated that one. I'm a morning person. Everyone else in my family sleeps late. No one at home ever missed me. The mock runs stopped somewhere around seventh grade. I don;t know why. Maybe the fighting at home stopped. Maybe I grew up. Maybe it was looking at that real runaway. |
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#105 |
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figuring it all out
Join Date: May 2013
Location: Florida
Posts: 52
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I looked for secret passages in my house al of the time. I was sorely disappointed. We didn't even have a basement or a crawlspace.
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#106 |
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practical experience, FTW
Join Date: Apr 2013
Location: Delaware. Home of tax free shopping and many things named DuPont.
Posts: 124
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I never believed in Santa Claus, but when my Hogwarts letter didn't come, I balled my eyes out. I think I cried every day for the first week of sixth grade.
So, at four I totally didn't buy a story about a fat dude who likes chimneys that most kids eat up. At eleven, I wanted Hogwarts to be real so desperately that I almost convinced myself it was. Sophomore year of college the apartment I lived in had a little trap door for putting the trash out. Not a chute, but like an actual tiny door, with a tiny room behind it just for trash. And then my landlord would come by and pick up the trash from all the apartments. (It was a sweet deal on our part.) We got a lot of questions about what this tiny door was, to the point where we just put up a sign that said "To Narnia." I'm like the Curious Case of Benjamin I-Believe-In-Things-That-Clearly-Aren't-Real. |
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