PoppyS
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| Type | Title | Author | Replies | Last updated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Story | Cigarette | MelindaLit | 9 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | The Corset | PoppyS | 5 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Daddies and Sweets. | PoppyS | 9 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Wrath | rosaliekempthorne | 5 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Pride | rosaliekempthorne | 2 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Apple Pie | PoppyS | 5 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Shoot The Line | PoppyS | 3 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Moorland | PoppyS | 4 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | The Oak Tree | hedgehog1 | 9 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Illiusions | PoppyS | 0 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Secrets | PoppyS | 2 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Summer Love | PoppyS | 3 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | A horse in a house | well-wisher | 2 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Flotsam (Poetry Monthly) | london_calling79 | 5 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Summers Red Skirt Endings | PoppyS | 7 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | From a bus | Parson Thru | 8 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Yellow for my daughter | seashore | 35 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | The Invisible Child. | Ladylily | 2 | 8 years 2 months ago |
My stories
Business Man Abroad
It was never planned preordained. Fifty five and spinning spoken untruths, beneath the crisp clean sheets. She had taken him places, never to be...
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- 384 reads
Christmas
Nineteen fourteen and he has his passport to a country full of a language he will not understand. Still, what does it matter – it will be all over...
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- 6 comments
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- 2084 reads
Broken
Move him into the sun - for that one, last time he should never discern, the cold. There he now lies - red flowing underfoot, our plans incomplete...
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- 8 comments
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- 3314 reads
Home Alone
I don’t plan on getting out of bed much today The peacefulness soothes me, wrapped down deep hidden from view. Though who am I hiding from is not...
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- 8 comments
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- 1660 reads
Barricades
Not the delicate hint of rose’s petals curled, faded edges of brown. Chairs scrape along the cold hard floor people leaving before their final...
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- 4 comments
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- 1889 reads