careyssej

Primary tabs

TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StorySmells like the rain careyssej810 years 8 months ago
StorySpring unsprung careyssej010 years 12 months ago
Storyword play careyssej210 years 12 months ago
StoryDaily Weekly careyssej012 years 11 months ago
StoryBreak Me Gently (A poem inspired by song by Doves and a break up) careyssej012 years 11 months ago
Collection2010 careyssej012 years 11 months ago
CollectionStories careyssej012 years 11 months ago
CollectionOlder stuff careyssej012 years 11 months ago
CollectionPoems careyssej012 years 11 months ago
StoryUntitled, Unseen, Unheard careyssej113 years 2 weeks ago
StoryVisiting production careyssej113 years 2 weeks ago
StoryYesterday Today. careyssej113 years 2 weeks ago
StoryUnencounter careyssej113 years 2 weeks ago
StoryUnderground careyssej013 years 2 weeks ago
StoryIn here (19.04.06) careyssej013 years 2 weeks ago
StoryEuphoria careyssej013 years 2 weeks ago
StoryLeaving Joe careyssej316 years 5 months ago
StoryAlone In A Dream Kachina316 years 5 months ago
StoryTime Killer capoeiragem218 years 3 months ago
StoryHappy New Year 2008 nandinidhar418 years 6 months ago
StoryPART 2 (a few weeks later): careyssej518 years 6 months ago
StoryThe Morning After careyssej318 years 6 months ago
StoryReading in the garden. careyssej218 years 7 months ago

My stories

Leaving Joe

The child swivels in the chair, oblivious to the world around him until he stops, abruptly, to notice the adult watching him from the doorway.
Cherry

PART 2 (a few weeks later):

This is my first attempt at following on from the short story 'the morning after'. It's still very new and fragile and ready for criticism.

In here (19.04.06)

It is inside this asylum that we accumulate, indulge, devour our senses. Senses not senses. Here we have stagnated
Cherry

Unencounter

We meet & you greet with a joke. We walk & you talk with a smile. I’m cold & you hold me in close. We eat & you keep spilling sauce. She rings & you grin but don’t tell.

Underground

Scarves are wrapped around faces on a nearly empty carriage Metropolitan line; a dozen empty spaces Among themselves foreigners feint retching with joy, humiliation.

Pages