animan

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryMummy I miss you. indigogold215 years 8 months ago
StoryIts Broken indigogold315 years 8 months ago
StoryFlorentine debate animan215 years 9 months ago
StoryDream Brooklands615 years 10 months ago
StoryNo' A pome so much as a le''er animan415 years 10 months ago
StoryReceiver jennifer415 years 10 months ago
StoryDrawn Like Knives jennifer315 years 10 months ago
Forum topicABCtales evening July 5th tcook4215 years 10 months ago
Storyone and one makes four animan315 years 11 months ago
StorySnow sonic_tonic215 years 11 months ago
StoryOthered Ewan615 years 11 months ago
Storyskim animan615 years 11 months ago
StoryWitch Bitch jennifer1715 years 11 months ago
StoryGrowing Up - Competition Entry Dynamaso1415 years 11 months ago
StoryEncounters sunshine1515 years 11 months ago
StoryThe Last Summer Night jennifer615 years 11 months ago
StoryJust Running mori saltson315 years 11 months ago
StoryBent will jennifer515 years 11 months ago
StoryNodding in silence animan215 years 11 months ago
Forum topicAn ABC conversation - Join in! markbrown3915 years 11 months ago
StoryDust BeamsAndVoids815 years 11 months ago
StoryHave you heard? animan215 years 12 months ago
StoryOfferings HaiAnh515 years 12 months ago
Forum topicAnybody Out There? TheShyAssassin515 years 12 months ago
StoryDesigned to shock jennifer1316 years 1 day ago

My stories

Cherry

Battledene (IP)

Why Battledene? Why there? Well, it’s like this, you see. ... They don’t want me to tell you about them. They’re secret and must not be revealed. Should I? Should I not?

Sitting in the British Library

Why do I love it, why does it get me down? Why? I like the sheen and the patina and the sloping doors, the slope of the floors, the romanticisation of books, of covers, illuminations ... I like

spaces

I saw love as taking. I said this is my love and you must share your fruits with me. You must not question. You must not disagree.

at the returns counter

As we wait to return what we thought we wanted, with our minds on our things like our shoes on our feet, can we think of the nude that lives under our clothes, can we think of the song
Cherry

sleep

to ricochet off waterfalls of light cascading at the edge and end of night, and glance off magma seas of suns at ember; to be glimpsed near glassy shores by eyes on stalks,

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