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	<title>A Bicycle for Two</title>
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		<title>A Bicycle for Two</title>
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		<title>Memories</title>
		<link>http://bicyclefor2.wordpress.com/2009/07/29/memories/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 29 Jul 2009 20:37:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bicyclefor2</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[greyhound]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[homicide]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memory]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[murder]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[short story]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Memories

The massive Victorian house dominated the street, shaming the cheery, friendly houses surrounding it. Little children frolicked in their sprinklers, as their parents kept a close eye on their designer clothing-clad kids. All the other houses seemed to shy away from the mansion, recoiling at the boarded up windows, the heavy chain wrapped around the doorknob, the vacant driveway. No one went there anymore.

      Elliott stood on the doorstep of the house, looking up at its weathered brown, ornate siding. Some of the wood had chipped off here and there, and the dark paint was peeling. He wanted to turn and run, to hide from the reality of his life. But Elliot knew he had to go forward. He slid the rusty skeleton key into the padlock, lifted the chain from the knob, and opened the door. 

      Even though it was morning, Elliott felt like he was entering a haunted mansion at night. Tiny shards of light escaped from the edges of the plywood boards covering the windows, but that wasn’t enough to illuminate the front hallway. Taking out his crowbar, Elliott wrenched the board from the window, letting it clatter to the floor in a shower of golden rays.

      Elliot moved forward. The floorboards creaked as he made his way into the kitchen, passing a delicate blue vase filled with dead lilies.  As if he’d flipped on a television set, Elliot’s vision became obscured and he saw a new scene before him. <img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=bicyclefor2.wordpress.com&amp;blog=7071790&amp;post=31&amp;subd=bicyclefor2&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
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		<title>Mother Nature&#8217;s Son</title>
		<link>http://bicyclefor2.wordpress.com/2009/07/29/mother-natures-son/</link>
		<comments>http://bicyclefor2.wordpress.com/2009/07/29/mother-natures-son/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 29 Jul 2009 20:34:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bicyclefor2</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beatles]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[creative writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[law]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poverty]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pro-bono]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://bicyclefor2.wordpress.com/?p=27</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[This story&#8217;s title is based on the Beatles song, Mother Nature&#8217;s Son. It&#8217;s a little long, but I hope you enjoy it! Mother Nature&#8217;s Son The wind whips at the hair of the people passing below me. I can see the smog hanging thick in the air, an ominous, dark cloud of pollution. The streets [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=bicyclefor2.wordpress.com&amp;blog=7071790&amp;post=27&amp;subd=bicyclefor2&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
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		<title>The Boarding House</title>
		<link>http://bicyclefor2.wordpress.com/2009/07/29/the-boarding-house/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 29 Jul 2009 20:29:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bicyclefor2</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Here&#8217;s an ending I wrote to James Joyce&#8217;s The Boarding House. You can read the beginning here, but the ending&#8217;s pretty easy to understand without reading the part by Joyce. The Boarding House&#8211;Alternate Ending Polly sat by the front window, gazing out across the wide, busy street. She could hear the carriage wheels rolling along [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=bicyclefor2.wordpress.com&amp;blog=7071790&amp;post=25&amp;subd=bicyclefor2&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
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		<title>Colorblind</title>
		<link>http://bicyclefor2.wordpress.com/2009/07/29/colorblind/</link>
		<comments>http://bicyclefor2.wordpress.com/2009/07/29/colorblind/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 29 Jul 2009 20:26:16 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>bicyclefor2</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://bicyclefor2.wordpress.com/?p=23</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Here&#8217;s the first story I&#8217;m putting up here. Enjoy! Colorblind Morris looked at the blank canvas sitting atop his old wooden easel. He was perched on a cold metal stool in the center of his studio, a small room with grey walls and a ceiling fan that emitted a soft buzzing sound with each turn [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=bicyclefor2.wordpress.com&amp;blog=7071790&amp;post=23&amp;subd=bicyclefor2&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
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