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She was calm. More reserved than she should have been in her situation. If it was me I would be in the middle of a panic attack, but she just wrote a check with a steady hand and left. She had an air of confidence about her and suddenly I wished that I was her.
genetic
My genetics were of value to him- more of an obsession really. Half of him, half of the woman he so desperately loved and who wanted nothing to do with him. They were so important that he had to make copies-four of them. They looked like me, but they weren't exact. Each one had a slight difference that made them slightly defective in his eyes. A too long nose, too dark eyes, a birthmark. They weren't perfect, but they would do until he had the original. And now he did.
breaking
I could feel the my grip on the ledge slipping, but I wouldn't let myself go. The fear off falling that far down, being shattered in the darkness scared me. I had never broken a bone before, and I wasn't ready to break my whole body now. It was quiet, save for the small stones that kept taunting me as they slid down the cliff.
mustard
The hot dog cart man looked just like he sold processed food for a living. He was pudgy, and always seem to wear a white t-shirt with a mustard stain right on the chest. I could imagine him as a father, with a daughter who was too embarrassed to tell her friends where her dad worked. I was jealous of her though, I would have killed to have a father like hers.