MistakenMagic

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryJohnny Rich threeleafshamrock2613 years 11 months ago
StoryReflection Dynamaso2213 years 11 months ago
StoryDaffodil Dawn Silver Spun Sand2213 years 11 months ago
Storysomething and nothing sid3013 years 12 months ago
StoryMad Maggie threeleafshamrock713 years 12 months ago
StoryChild of Mine Silver Spun Sand1513 years 12 months ago
StoryMorning has Broken skinner_jennifer1913 years 12 months ago
StoryTHE EXTREMELY ABRIDGED HISTORY, PRESENT & FUTURE OF PAUL ASKEW, IN FIVE DREAM SCENES. AKT1713 years 12 months ago
StoryThe Man with the Fish Tattoo Silver Spun Sand1813 years 12 months ago
StoryNext of Kin #5 Beeme114 years 20 hours ago
StoryEarly Spring danielwhite87514 years 20 hours ago
StoryOn Putting the Clocks Forward Silver Spun Sand1214 years 20 hours ago
StoryDon Paterson Didn't Eat His Venison MistakenMagic1714 years 4 days ago
StoryBadly Beaten Broken Heart threeleafshamrock614 years 6 days ago
StoryPoem for a Granddaughter Silver Spun Sand2414 years 6 days ago
StoryRemember! threeleafshamrock914 years 6 days ago
StoryThe Garden threeleafshamrock1414 years 1 week ago
StoryNext Of Kin #4 Beeme614 years 1 week ago
StoryTry to Tell Myself... Silver Spun Sand1714 years 1 week ago
StoryIt Won't Hurt blighters rock1814 years 1 week ago
Storygaps in concrete sid2714 years 1 week ago
StoryBring up the bucket (I.P.) threeleafshamrock1314 years 1 week ago
StoryNice Day for It Silver Spun Sand3214 years 1 week ago
StoryReflections skinner_jennifer1714 years 1 week ago
StoryBad Habits maggyvaneijk1114 years 1 week ago

My stories

Libra

Only cautious Capricorn can make me lose my balance.
Cherry

Maladaptive Coping Behaviour

I slip away from everyone at the B&B and sneak down the beach road, bare-foot with sandals in hand, to the sand dunes for a sly cigarette.
Cherry

Amnesia

My trail of footprints sinks into the sand like a long, rambling confession; the ins and outs of two years of extreme loneliness.
Cherry

Lucid Dreams In Moscow

Part One of a two-part series of poems on my experiences of Russia. 'Looming before me, St Basil's basks in camera flashes, with its candy-cane swirls and pretentious pastels,'
Cherry

Ton Autre Amour

It wasn't that I didn't like Paris; the colours lazily reclining on their canvasses at Montmartre. Gargoyles crawling up the outstretched fingers of Notre Dame.

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