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Isolationism

Rainclouds burst like soapsuds, the trees bud and bud again, imaginary ash falls from the sky (which is not blue). The isolationists hold a party...

Mirage

A strange dream

Snowdance

Historical Romance set in Montana.

last man standing

he was staying indoors more and more all his mates seemed to have disappeared into a world of quiet domesticity in which he lived too but sometimes...

V - Life Line

... birth and death are, waves ...

The Cat on the Mat

20 minute flash fiction written for 'Bloomsbury Comp'

Rose

Don't you know that roses don't spread that sweet aroma any more, the scent poets strew so lavishly, that magic ingredient which no girl can resist...

Diary of the Damned: Prologue: Already Dead

Shelly is worried about her brother. His life seems to revolve around nothing but college; no sex life, no dating. When she sponataniously goes to visit him, his reasons for this become clearer. . . but will they destroy their relationship?

friendship forgotton

to the girl who didnt and doesnt value my friendship

Hurrah For the Good Life.

Life is what you make of it!
Cherry

Blooms Bury

Competition entry

Before a concert

Soon you'll be wrapped around me, arms encircling my waist like branches, the whole being of you fluttering inside the memory of my eyes. Little...

Monsoon

Outside the ivory step My tuskless elephant wheezes and pours golden wine from her back. I must arrest the rain: for she is slowly drowning.

Witch Craft

the difficult craft
Cherry

Mirrorball

Who's the fairest of them all?

The ocean that's known as emotion

Far down the road from happiness There lies a deep dark ocean Which people have come to love &;amp; hate Its name, they call it emotion The waves...

Decision

The only thing I've dreaded Is that fate be rested in my hands Like a sword given to a Kight To kill a dragon &;amp; free the land I cannot make...

At night

for Dan

Through a glass

Some nameless voices from a conflict

Burning the Clocks

We chase time through half-lit steets and play catch up by a sludge black sea where it waits, glowing bright in the face of its funeral pyre. Time is...

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