hudsonmoon

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryRoom For No Angel (I.P.) oldpesky3114 years 10 months ago
StoryAll the women in my family smoke maggyvaneijk1714 years 10 months ago
StoryStumble itsnotnatural414 years 10 months ago
StoryThe MMR vaccine Terrence Oblong514 years 10 months ago
StoryABC tales Bad Writing Prize! ( I P ) skinner_jennifer1614 years 10 months ago
StoryBad Writing (IP) The Other Terre...514 years 10 months ago
Forum topicWhere Are You From? Dynamaso7814 years 11 months ago
StoryDrama Attempt : “Magic Moments” (IP) well-wisher414 years 11 months ago
StoryOne Shirley Temple and Five Pints of Stella maggyvaneijk2214 years 11 months ago
StoryIgor Makes a Friend hudsonmoon214 years 11 months ago
StoryPeeing with Whitman hudsonmoon414 years 11 months ago
StoryIgor Gets the Finger hudsonmoon214 years 11 months ago
StoryHans Gets Stollen hudsonmoon214 years 11 months ago
StoryWhy Diner Sores are Extinct hudsonmoon214 years 11 months ago
StoryLet's Start Again oldpesky2214 years 11 months ago
StoryFinding Art M_C_Green614 years 12 months ago
StoryNo Place Like Home markbrown614 years 12 months ago
StoryMarshmallow spiltmilk415 years 2 weeks ago
StoryBathroom spiltmilk515 years 2 weeks ago
StoryThe day nothing much happened 4/4 Geoffrey215 years 3 months ago

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My stories

The Pigeon Chasers (IP)

Alexandra made a sighting. “Pigeons at twelve o’clock!,” she said. “Gun her Harold!" As the adrenaline pumped through his caffeine soaked veins, Harold floored the gas petal.

The Elephant Salesman (Part IV)

The flight to the Congo was uneventful. Except for the shadow. Had Mr. Pickles known we were to have such an ominous visitor on board, he’d never have gotten on the plane.
Cherry

A Day at the Beach (IP)

Just a slight fix. And the cherry is much appreciated.

The Elephant Salesman (Part 3)

"I'm ready to take that letter now, Charles," said Mr. Pickles. He gripped the quill pen with his trunk, lifted it out of its stand and dipped its nib into the inkwell. Dearest Veronica,

The Elephant Salesman (Part 2)

“Mr. Pickles!” said Charles O’Day. “Take a letter!” Mr. Pickles grabbed the quill with his trunk and made several violent stabs at the ink well.

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