michscor

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
Story47˚ East 18˚ South insertponceyfre...1211 years 5 months ago
StoryDaffodils michscor412 years 10 months ago
StoryApple Pie Mum michscor012 years 10 months ago
StoryA Yule-Tide Spirit michscor212 years 10 months ago
StoryA Gilded Run michscor512 years 10 months ago
CollectionStories michscor012 years 10 months ago
StoryDolls' Packing michscor013 years 2 days ago
StoryLike Gold to Ayery Thinnesse Beate... michscor315 years 6 months ago
StoryLittle People Oldwarrior215 years 6 months ago
StorySix Catholics and an Atheist barryj1415 years 6 months ago
StoryChristina The Christmas Fairy HOMER05215 years 6 months ago
StoryThe Reticent Storyteller barryj1615 years 6 months ago
StoryTwenty Red Roses lk215 years 6 months ago
StoryNodding With Cherries michscor715 years 6 months ago
StoryNo More Heroes well-wisher915 years 7 months ago
StoryOysters for Supper michscor715 years 7 months ago
StoryA Great Victorian Engineer And Inventor hadley215 years 7 months ago
StoryWhilst reading Ernest Hemingway... michscor516 years 2 months ago
StoryCoal Bags celticman1016 years 2 months ago
StoryTHE LOVER Anonymous116 years 3 months ago
StoryThe cat's Whiskers screenstories416 years 3 months ago
StoryPassing Mother's Day michscor216 years 3 months ago
StoryThe Deepest Cut lwilkinson416 years 3 months ago
StoryTrompe L'Oeil Margharita1016 years 3 months ago

My collections

My stories

Apple Pie Mum

Clare struck the heavy painted knocker and regretted the mute black and white plastic bell which unfailingly irked her; it sullied the door and besmirched its two-up two-down Victorian heritage.

Like Gold to Ayery Thinnesse Beate...

Is it possible that the aura and spirit and very essence of a person are somehow revealed in death?

A Yule-Tide Spirit

It was just as Clare was receiving her cheese sandwich from the waitress that two women approached their table; they carried numerous bags and hard weary faces and trailed an unmistakeable aura of pov
Cherry

Nodding With Cherries

Marjorie Wallace, thirty-nine-year-old librarian, enjoyed a certain fillip to her weekly walk to the writers’ circle.
Cherry

Oysters for Supper

It all started with the wearing of my blue velvet rather than my green muslin.

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