thesnowman36

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryKeep it in a jar because no one wants it. thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryThe Architect thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryThe weeping petals of a hollow flower thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryOf Fish and Water thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryPerfect Playlist - Chapter 3 - Brutally Punctual thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryPerfect Playlist - Chapter 2 - Candle in the Wind thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryLosing the cloak and sharpening the dagger thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryNotes on white paper thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryThe truth is a riot thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryThe Man In Avery thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryThe Offending Ophidian thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryThe American War thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryNeedle thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
Storyred hazey reality thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryPrince Of Whales thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryMass of loss thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
Storytemptation thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryOak thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryPerfect Playlist - Chapter 1 thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryIt is necessary to look, a second time thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryI wonder if it isn't that the brush is too heavy, but that it's always been too heavy thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryIt Exists In Darkness thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryItaly thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryHome thesnowman36012 years 1 month ago
StoryLife experience with a side of books thesnowman36314 years 5 months ago

My stories

The Cages We Build

People love to put limits on other people. Because it helps to justify the limits they impose upon themselves.

An Obligatory Response to Ouroboros

Once a boy looked upon you with loving, wondrous eyes that made you turn away timidly, and say, "Stop."

It is necessary to look, a second time

I think sometimes we happen upon another soul just in time to juxtapose our drifting medley of turn styles, cramped living, and inhibitions.

Nostalgia

I'm as sharp as the edge I carry, and as bitter as the Yukon in my veins, but my enmity is only in my roots

The eye of the introverted

with weathered brow and rough hands, and have seen the jungles sun, the moonlit sea

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