The Memories

I'm sure this will be be my least liked story. Just about nothing happens in this story. Everything happens in about 30mins if not less.

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Her hand flew, with more speed than she thought that she had, at that thing that was making this horrid buzzing noise. Her aim was lousy. However on her third attempt she hit it squarely on the head, and it stopped. How cooperative. She then knocked it to the floor. You asked for it. She really did like the clock. It saves her from being fired, but today was Sunday. She wanted to sleep and dream of wicked things that had happened to her and were real. They may not be real to her, but they had to be real to someone.


She could not go back to sleep. The clock had done its job well. Slowly she sat up. She felt like going to sleep, but knew that it would not happen. She held her hands and stretched them out infront of her, then lifted them over her head. They then fell to the bed. Now I feel like a rag doll. Corn flakes. She could already smell and taste it along with the milk. She stands up and puts her hand to the small of her back. That bed is going to kill me one of these days.


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