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A Sexually Transmitted Disease

This story chooses to start in the evening. It's very important, actually, that the thing which I shall call a story starts in the evening (as opposed to the morning, which would be ridiculous).

Against the low-hung skies

Dust on the surface - colourless the thought, no more for eyes ' sound which like deeper ears hears us who cannot rise, alone the inner voice out in the open, charcoal of despair, deep lines it scrawls

Fame

From unending longing rises the real occurrence like fountains timely and quivering falling. But then in the deep lies the glitter, our otherwise hidden feelings. shown in the dancing tears. Throwing the coins of abandon

Nietzsche

When he was young he met a dangerous god, though never went to tell of right or wrong Since then he kept his silence, learnt it long ago to listen inwards where no voices go. He grew on stillness

Questions

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Acrobatic baker risks being cooked

At the end, only the space right at the bottom, near the flames, is free. He dives right inside, feet sticking out above.Baking only takes five minutes or so. A lid is put on the "Torné" and Gia, pouring with sweat and red as a tomato, goes to rinse his head at the washbasin. (This item was published in "Georgian Times" English edition newspaper)

Miss Mindthegap's day out

Miss Mindthegap's day out
Cherry

Curriculum Vitae

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Neck back

I am wearing the old green dressing gown you gave to me for sleeping. I can't forget the bribe I took to get it. 'Tip your neck back love, drink some more' What you didnt know, is that my heart was already a gristly dead bulb,
Cherry

Transference/Projection

I want you to know There is someone new: He laughs at my jokes and rings me every day at lunchtime to see how I am. He gazes earnestly at me over the caesar salad on the table at Pizza Express and

a seizure seized her

Adventures in the future past are too sweet to dream of we'll see each other next life round That's how I like to make it sound Less like hell and more profound. But still I hope to wish you into sight

black cat

The coffee cups were coughing the stairs did a Mexican wave the no smoking sign lit a cigarette and blew all the candles away. The waiters' shoes became ice skates

The stars looked on.

Happiness is just Something that people who aren't Happy aspire to. The Gods must've been Looking the other way When I was born. Screamed When the chord was cut: Frankenstein's plea: "Dear God, what

Hole

You're ideas are great, you fanastic sex monkey.

Granddad's Toys

"I'm bored! He whined. "Bored? She began, "Bored! I was never bored when I was your age! "But Mum! James complained, "You were my age in the olden days! Being bored didn't exist! "Do you know why? Mum raised her voice and continued as though James had not interrupted. "Why? James droned, he had heard this speech many times and thought he knew what was coming. "Books! I read books, and so should you! "Fine! He raised himself from the couch, "I'll go and read a book.
Cherry

The Man on the Train

'Never discuss sex, politics or religion with a stranger,' said the man on the train. After which he proceeded to explain to me why monogamy was an unnatural state, Tony Blair was an idiot and the Catholic Church was run by gamblers, drunks and perverts.

Connie Irene Johnson ' My Nan

This is another true story about an event which happened 5 years ago today (13/12/05) This was originally written on 28/11/02.

At the end of the Fast

Goats, logjammed in the road, are led on leashes, to the market, to be bought and slaughtered. Is there a spicy pinch of suspicion in each bleat? Or hate? In English or Amharic, the animal's stuttering remarks

The Worm

She spotted him as she was waiting for the lights to change. He was carefree, non-chalant, spirited even, minding in his own business. Suddenly there was movement...a hump appeared on his back for a few seconds, and then he lay flat again. The brave invertibrate seemed to be planning to cross the road too, and the very thought made the girl smile.

Nearsighted

Oil Dooars is a small tea town in the himalayan foothills.The place developed around the several tea gardens at the east end of town.Most of the people are poor and uneducated.A few have gone elsewhere to educate themselves and stayed on in that better place.Some have even come back to work in the tea estates in various capacities. Twenty five year old Ian Batter has recently acquired a mail-order degree.He has also become aware of the female of the species lately.His father is a head clerk in Batra Tea Garden.Though Ian had performed well in high school,his father could not afford to send him to college in Tiger Grove.Or Calcutta for that matter.So Ian was forced to join a correspondence course which gave him a three part degree in one year.Naturally such a degree was of little use to Ian.Then,he discovered girls.He saw them wherever he went.He had seen them before of course but now he knew what these people looked like.He was impressed by their beauty,their grace,their elegance.And by what they meant to him.And then his cousin Arin came visiting.

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