So for my final project for my digital literature class, I put together forty Twitter length story seeds along the lines of that rat bastard Ernest Hemingway's "For sale: baby shoes, never worn
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The bit about the orbital death rays was more or less the plot of a semi-improv show that played at Oberlin this semester. The plot revolved around a world where the Cold War had never ended, and the Soviets and America both launched manned satellites armed with nuclear weapons as part of the ever-escalating competition of deterrence.
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