Saints Of Satan Prologue

His breathing was deep, ragged, the occasional cough disturbing the cool night air with a trail of wispy smoke.

Burnt poems

Sandy feet, toes touched, bonfire warms, lack of regret, smoke in my hair. Music in our heads, lyrics up in flames, dare I ask what next, I usually be more patient,
Cherry

Harley6

more desperate goings on

Retribution Prologue

I suppose you could say i'm a bit of a loner.

A Tribute to Mary's Father, Robert P. Walsh

The Chronicles of Robert W. Walsh

THE OVETHINKER

In the face of the on coming train of thought, she lays on the tracks silent and paralyzed by the coils of thick rope, wound then tied around her body in a series of neat reef notes.

My Day off Work with ABC Tales

How I'm hooked on ABC Tales.

Mister Hopper

Dave has finally got a job but is he going to lose it almost straight away?

Family Picture

Turquoise, pink, Aztec pattern covers your plump apple belly growth that I want to capture

Others

...She is trapped now Old man's beard in the hedgerow...

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