MistakenMagic

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryConversation With My Thirteen-Year-Old Self MistakenMagic913 years 1 month ago
StoryComing Home MistakenMagic1913 years 1 month ago
StoryClean Slate MistakenMagic1213 years 1 month ago
StoryCaptive MistakenMagic2313 years 1 month ago
StoryBody Language MistakenMagic1713 years 1 month ago
StoryBlossoming MistakenMagic2313 years 1 month ago
StoryBlock MistakenMagic1713 years 1 month ago
StoryBittersweet MistakenMagic013 years 1 month ago
StoryBirds, Bees and Butteflies MistakenMagic1213 years 1 month ago
StoryBefore I say I Love You MistakenMagic813 years 1 month ago
StoryBeauty? MistakenMagic113 years 1 month ago
StoryBad Writing Prize (Inspiration Point) MistakenMagic1313 years 1 month ago
StoryAnything to Forget MistakenMagic013 years 1 month ago
StoryAnticipation MistakenMagic3213 years 1 month ago
StoryAnniversary MistakenMagic2613 years 1 month ago
StoryAnd Other Acts of Masochism MistakenMagic1413 years 1 month ago
StoryAn Insomniac's Dawn MistakenMagic2413 years 1 month ago
StoryAmnesia MistakenMagic3213 years 1 month ago
StoryAlways Summer MistakenMagic2213 years 1 month ago
StoryAlors, On Danse MistakenMagic2613 years 1 month ago
StoryAftermath MistakenMagic1213 years 1 month ago
StoryAfter You MistakenMagic4813 years 1 month ago
StoryAcceptance MistakenMagic1413 years 1 month ago
StoryAbomination MistakenMagic1713 years 1 month ago
StoryA Study in South Street MistakenMagic1913 years 1 month ago

My stories

Cherry

Espresso Martini

"a triangle of black ice with an archipelago of coffee beans dotted across its thin layer of cream. A small miracle of vodka and coffee combined - I hold it aloft like the Holy Grail."
Cherry

Requiem

It hits me every time I come back: the smell of his soap in the bathroom.
Cherry

Epigraph

Now the days are as sunny as peanut butter, but I stay inside watching re-runs of Blackadder, because I loved Captain Kevin Darling before I loved you.
Cherry

Don Paterson Didn't Eat His Venison

I bake her a tray of shortbread and tell her the more explicit version of ‘The Secret Life of Dragonflies’ to try and take her mind off the poisonous, unwanted orb swelling in her side.
Cherry

My Bookcase, 4am

Marie de France's 'Bisclavret' howls at the moon like a wolf. 'The Assistant' mutters to itself in Yiddish. The window is full to the brim with stars, and poems rise up like unanswered prayers.

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