rokkitnite

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryShe Leaves Tracks rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryRails rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryThe Caterer rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StorySong of the Lead Miner rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryNews rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryTelevision rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StorySeagull rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StorySetting the Price rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryPeacock rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryThrush rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryPlover rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryNightingale rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryOn the Last Day rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryT - Passing Through Fields rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryU - By Proxy rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryR - Clouds on the Horizon rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryStreak rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryP - His Grace in a Jam rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryQ - In Hope Valley rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryN - Olive rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryO - Libra rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryL - Prise Me Open rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryM - Warning rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryThis is Memoir rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago
StoryThe Bliss of Solitude rokkitnite012 years 11 months ago

My stories

Cherry

Getting In Touch

With your inner gibbon; Come on, chaps! Bruce knocks Down the flipchart and Lickety-split he’s Scramble-loping through the hall That links Deaths to Home Eek-acking some Congo call

We're The Very Best At Being Bad

Flicking off lollypop ladies We rattle full-clap down rampart high streets. What d’you mean turn down my music? I’ll listen to Leonard Cohen any volume I feel comfortable with,
Cherry

Insurgency

He rode on the roof-rack flinging rocks at road signs: Take this Darlington! Up yours Chipping Sodbury! Always a slow overarm stroke Like a spin bowler –
Cherry

Flint

Near the end, good god man, Nearly all and sundry went feeding The last lazy licks of the flame; Newspapers, napkins, Failed poems crossed out then torn From their bindings;
Cherry

Disgrace

She peeks over her spectacles Like a vexed librarian But this is no library And I am no inconsiderate reader. She does not vocalise her complaint But I assume it is something to do

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