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Magic FeatherA Magic Feather, or How to Toot your Upper HornMagic Feather
The smell was horrible. Jason could hardly stand sitting inside the pavilion while the scents of manure and sweat filled the air. That is the last time I go in for free circus tickets. All his other friends had bailed on the foolish idea, perhaps seeing the scam for what it was. The tickets may have been free, but comfortable seats, drinks, fans, and enjoyment were triple the usual price. Even the acts were pathetic. All of them evolved garden variety animal feats. If I want to see animals, Ill go to a zoo damn it. That is it. Silently


One of Life's Little MixupsThe mailman was giving me odd looks again. Just sign for the package, here. He finally handed me the ticket, which I signed quickly. The man was beginning to make me feel uncomfortable. Enjoy your package, pervert. He whispered quietly, the last part nearly inaudible. Without looking back, the USP worker hopped back in the truck and drove off. I was left standing in the driveway with a curious look on my face. Now what the heck is so wrong with software? I whispered to myself. The solid green package contained a new program. It was designed to translate spoken word into text with extreme precisiOne of Life's Little Mixups
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TF Club: [link]
TF Writers Group: [link]
I write Transformation stories: [link]
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TF Club: [link]
TF Writers Group: [link]
I write Transformation stories: [link]
--
TF Club: [link]
TF Writers Group: [link]
I write Transformation stories: [link]
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