ja_simpson

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryLoretta ja_simpson68 years 5 months ago
StoryDating ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
StoryConnected ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
StoryColumbo ja_simpson110 years 8 months ago
StoryBreeze ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
StoryB - Chapter Two ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
StoryAngel ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
StoryAnd so the branches again shall weep ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
StoryA totally insignificant story ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
StoryA - The For Sale Sign ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
StoryA - Chapter One ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
CollectionUnordered Tales ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
CollectionWestfield ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
CollectionNew poems ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
CollectionThe Morning After ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
CollectionStories ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
CollectionWhen the letters don't fit anymore ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
CollectionPoems ja_simpson010 years 8 months ago
StoryZ - Den and Joey at The Diner ja_simpson010 years 9 months ago
StoryX - The Big Leap ja_simpson010 years 9 months ago
StoryY - The Continuing Saga of Mr and Mrs Montague ja_simpson010 years 9 months ago
StoryV - Between Sleeping and Waking ja_simpson010 years 9 months ago
StoryWigan is Wonderful ja_simpson010 years 9 months ago
StoryZ - Stranger ja_simpson010 years 9 months ago
StoryWhen the end comes ja_simpson010 years 9 months ago

My stories

Story of the week

Loretta

It was seven years before I realised I was an alcoholic. You’d think you’d guess before that amount of time had passed – have a notion, at least.

Columbo

I’m leaving my flat when I come across an evidently alcoholic, stooped, iron-haired man, propping himself up for dear life against a wooden stake embedded in the flowerbed at the back of the buildin

Mr Johnson rebels

Mr Johnson sits on the train home and reads his paper. "Young father stabbed to death by youths reads the headline. Mr Johnson does not blink.

A totally insignificant story

Listen. We all profess to be innocents and yet, without a second thought, accuse the whole remainder of the human race. .

Train Journey

We are all heading somewhere.

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