In the fifth grade, a bully named Ronnie terrorized our class. Having failed a grade, he was bigger, stronger,
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I relaxed in my recliner as I watched my favorite football team in the final game of the season. The play clock showed three seconds remaining.
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As a child, my mother rarely raised her voice. When my sister or I upset her, she intentionally lowered her voice to the
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In the 2011 British Kielder Marathon, a man who finished third confessed to riding the bus for a portion of
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All I could see was a pile of rocks, which supposedly bore the shape of an eagle.
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Picture a sixty-five pound English bulldog, hiding under our bed, trembling in terror from a vacuum cleaner.
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Ever hear, “There’s no such thing as a dumb question?” I have to disagree. Over the years I’ve heard (and asked) my share of, let’s call them, “less-than-intelligent interrogative inquires.”
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