Mark Heathcote

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryTen For The Ten Commandments (IP) well-wisher914 years 9 months ago
StoryNicknames for Aislinn Mark Heathcote415 years 2 months ago
StoryLove is the drug shoe815 years 3 months ago
Storyplease (don't ) marry me! shoe1515 years 3 months ago
Storythe affair shoe1315 years 3 months ago
StoryNo two people Mark Heathcote215 years 6 months ago
StorySpring Fever jennifer215 years 7 months ago
StoryEunectes Murinus Anna Marie315 years 7 months ago
StoryToothless Wander lenchenelf915 years 8 months ago
StoryHow royally Avant-garde am I? Mark Heathcote115 years 10 months ago
StoryNearly human (again) Nick.A315 years 11 months ago
StoryDo the British take their brollies? Mark Heathcote616 years 2 months ago
StoryVII Stanzas Mark Heathcote216 years 2 months ago
StoryA Lovely Day Jupiter1816 years 2 months ago
StoryThe Trouble with Grace Silver Spun Sand3016 years 3 months ago
StoryChaosity Kills jennifer216 years 9 months ago
StoryPenetrates jennifer117 years 2 weeks ago
StoryThe music of one’s love is deaf and dumb Mark Heathcote317 years 1 month ago
StoryA Cautionary Tale MistakenMagic217 years 3 months ago
StoryIn these cormorant hours spent swift Mark Heathcote217 years 4 months ago

My stories

Swimming, below zero...

We swam the lake in mid-November For a silly, madcap, dare. In the distance watched a figure. With a look of, despair… A man’s grimacing eyes, watched Fishing on the far bank

Your life is on a throne

Your life is on a throne Of dust weathered-stone A whirlwind battered face With a mountain to climb Of the time Of the time Of the time Your voices a busted microphone

Liqueur and life

Liqueur and life Trouble and strife Blow my brains away… But quantum physics I better understand Like Janis Joplin, she lives with me

The madness of the bee…

Curvaceous; white rose How—potently, aromatic It is to delve quite freely One’s passionate, nose Tasting; upon our tongues The madness of the bee… Who’ sumptuously,

A backwards look in the mirror…

I’ve seen those eyes before like pack-ice Residuary-melting, scraped off the floor Beats me how, an addict beats the count And rises; from the canvas once more.

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