Cosy in Garbage Bag Coats

A battle ensued; Mr K with garbage bag-ponchos verses sons refusing to wear the garbage bags.

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Lost World of the Wends (46)– Proclivity of the Hand

The dog emerged, head shaking something in her mouth.
As the thing scraped against the ground, sparks flew. The dingo yelped and released her prey. The three fellows stared at the mangled crab-like creature writhing on the grainy surface. It spun and fizzed, a demented break-dancer.

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Bliss! It’s Free!

“Hey, that wasn’t supposed to happen!” I leapt to my feet, my jumpsuit twisted around my ankles. The shrubs had disappeared and were replaced by the glass panels of the transporter enclosure. The control operators fixed their eyes on me as I struggled to pull up my suit.

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Meagre Morsels

I wandered off by myself to squander those few precious relics of dried fruit and savour their shrivelled sugary taste. But the meagre morsels were not enough to satisfy my hunger and I cried.

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