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<!--Generated by Squarespace Site Server v5.11.5 (http://www.squarespace.com/) on Sun, 01 Aug 2010 07:14:42 GMT--><rdf:RDF xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" xmlns:rss="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:admin="http://webns.net/mvcb/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:cc="http://web.resource.org/cc/"><rss:channel rdf:about="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/"><rss:title>Very Short Stories</rss:title><rss:link>http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/</rss:link><rss:description></rss:description><dc:language>en-US</dc:language><dc:date>2010-08-01T07:14:42Z</dc:date><admin:generatorAgent rdf:resource="http://www.squarespace.com/">Squarespace Site Server v5.11.5 (http://www.squarespace.com/)</admin:generatorAgent><rss:items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/22/swinging.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/9/dime-waster.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/6/desert-gold.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/5/current-against.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/4/lucky-forever.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/3/red-shinobi.html"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/3/the-curve.html"/></rdf:Seq></rss:items></rss:channel><rss:item rdf:about="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/22/swinging.html"><rss:title>Swinging</rss:title><rss:link>http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/22/swinging.html</rss:link><dc:creator>David Brush</dc:creator><dc:date>2010-02-22T23:05:16Z</dc:date><dc:subject>Creepy Dude Sentiment Swinging</dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Mike sat back onto the swing, it was the one he used to play on all those years back. &nbsp;As he began to rock back and forth he thought of her, she had gold hair in pig-tails and a collection of plastic bracelets on her left arm. &nbsp;Sometimes memories are a good friend.</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/9/dime-waster.html"><rss:title>Dime Waster</rss:title><rss:link>http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/9/dime-waster.html</rss:link><dc:creator>David Brush</dc:creator><dc:date>2010-02-09T23:46:02Z</dc:date><dc:subject>Corn Syrup Byproduct Gambling Swindling</dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Charlie ran the dime around in his hand, the soda pop machine had beat him before but he was determined this time. &nbsp;Pinching the coin between thumb and index finger he deftly flicked it into the monstrous slot, taking the odds.</p>
<p><em>Rattle, Clunk, Chink</em> then silence. &nbsp;</p>
<p>Charlie pressed the button. &nbsp;</p>
<p><em>Whizz, rattle, clunk</em> then nothing. &nbsp;</p>
<p>Charlie's shoulders shrunk and as he began to turn he caught a glimpse of something glistening on the ground, it was a shiny rock.</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/6/desert-gold.html"><rss:title>Desert Gold</rss:title><rss:link>http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/6/desert-gold.html</rss:link><dc:creator>David Brush</dc:creator><dc:date>2010-02-07T04:15:20Z</dc:date><dc:subject>Lunch Boxes Mummy Tombs</dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Inching forward into the inky blackness of the pharaoh's tomb, Colonel Malcom of the 115th brigade knew not what lay ahead with the exception of one thing. &nbsp;His mother had not packed a sufficient provision in his lunch box if this should happen to take more than the afternoon.</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/5/current-against.html"><rss:title>Current Against</rss:title><rss:link>http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/5/current-against.html</rss:link><dc:creator>David Brush</dc:creator><dc:date>2010-02-06T02:22:54Z</dc:date><dc:subject>Ode to Marvin Sailing Vessels Space Modulator</dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Launching the canoe, Billy expected it to turn downstream. &nbsp;This soon turned out to be an incorrect assumption, as the evil genius Dr. Phibbius had just switched on his patented Reverse-O-Tron XJ9000.</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/4/lucky-forever.html"><rss:title>Lucky Forever</rss:title><rss:link>http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/4/lucky-forever.html</rss:link><dc:creator>David Brush</dc:creator><dc:date>2010-02-05T01:52:09Z</dc:date><dc:subject>Things your Uncle Gives You Vicarious Waterfalls</dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The waterfall seemed to never end. &nbsp;Although on a good day you could gain a glimpse of brown towards the bottom. &nbsp;It is said that if you see it, you will be lucky in life. &nbsp;I only have the postcard given to me by my uncle.</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/3/red-shinobi.html"><rss:title>Red Shinobi</rss:title><rss:link>http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/3/red-shinobi.html</rss:link><dc:creator>David Brush</dc:creator><dc:date>2010-02-03T17:50:25Z</dc:date><dc:subject>Fruits Ninjas Veggies</dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The sweetness of the tomato was haunting. &nbsp;Without a sound, she dropped her sheers to the side of the bucket. &nbsp;As her eyes closed, in order to hold in the moment, a tingle crept up her back like a tiny ninja parade.</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item><rss:item rdf:about="http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/3/the-curve.html"><rss:title>The Curve</rss:title><rss:link>http://davidbrush.com/very-short-stories/2010/2/3/the-curve.html</rss:link><dc:creator>David Brush</dc:creator><dc:date>2010-02-03T17:14:00Z</dc:date><dc:subject>acts of legend dogs physics</dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Leaning out of the window...<br />Old Ray thought it was a good idea...<br />But that was until they went around the Milltown curve.</p>]]></content:encoded></rss:item></rdf:RDF>