Bad Writing Prize (I.P.)
With more brass neck than the Sheffield Colliery Band, Lady Butterworth sat in her ivory towers spreading repugnant rumours like Dairylea triangles left in the bottom of last year’s picnic hamper an
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- 10 comments
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- 2475 reads
Deal or No Deal
Performance piece with very strong language
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- 3 comments
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- 1229 reads
Clown Feet and Mushy Matters
I have a son. His name is Sam.
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- 5 comments
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- 1155 reads
I am Norse
It seems I am Norse the curve of one dead girls cheek and her eyes looked out of my college yearbook another and anothers red angel hair is mine
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- 5 comments
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- 1843 reads
Night-Time
on two silent feet a magic came
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- 832 reads
I Am your Dad
girls no longer in diaper rash but sleek figures
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- 4 comments
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- 1528 reads
Tired of Counting Sheep...
Five a.m. Looking out my window;
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- 4 comments
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- 975 reads
Cleaning
The new flat is getting dirty. I have lived in it. I have friends here. They have lived in it with me. On Wednesdays I clean. It gives me back my pride. I have a system.
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- 7 comments
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- 1689 reads
One Day She Decided To Become Fearless
One day she decided to become fearless. She rode her bike on the road. She put her hand up when her boss said ‘any questions?’
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- 6 comments
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- 1124 reads
All the world's a stage -
small story!
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- 781 reads