narcissa
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| Type | Title | Author | Replies | Last updated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Story | Z: Pax | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Vox* | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Story | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Moving words | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Transmute | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Sarah and Trudy | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Orders after an Apocalypse | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Summerhouse | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Station songs | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Pine | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Monsoon | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Keel | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Truck | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | The Photograph... | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Spider | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Party | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Quilt | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Lamentation | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Morning | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Kiss wrap | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Ultimately | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Swimming Pool | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Now | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Out/Inside the Box... | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Memories of her | narcissa | 0 | 11 years 11 months ago |
My stories
Summerhouse
Although you have, most probably, been repainted, there is always the chance of being original- strip back the layers, (I feel your age, buried, underneath the white) and when you are bare
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- 1020 reads
Alteration
Lightning flashes in the heat, twice, illuminating my curtains. In the cotton-wool silence I listen for thunder, defied. Under an empty duvet cover I am wearing nothing but a silk scrap, which clings
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- 1073 reads
11:43 Skin
I lie, aligned, under the delicious moon perfectly, my left hand echoing my right - palmed to the flooded sky - and imagine (mouth tasting of ragged metal edge) that my breasts have become the peaks of stormclouds;
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- 1206 reads
Dress*
In two months and three days I will be wearing the gold dress hanging, empty, on the back of my door. On that night I will be perfectly slightly...
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- 813 reads
Requirements
On the other side, this piece of paper is covered in tiny pink hearts. (I am writing on the plain me-side) I am silver, I am only the colour purple...
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- 942 reads