MistakenMagic

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryIf you meet me, have some sympathy 23 rjnewlyn1314 years 6 months ago
StoryYear of the Rabbit Silver Spun Sand1214 years 6 months ago
StoryLonerism at an underground dance festival maggyvaneijk1914 years 6 months ago
StoryIf only shoe1314 years 6 months ago
StoryThe Dereliction - MaggieG214 years 6 months ago
Storymaking dinner shoe414 years 6 months ago
StoryRoom Eight's the Geordie Silver Spun Sand1614 years 6 months ago
StoryRunning Beeme914 years 6 months ago
StoryOf Ghost Shrimps and Things (IP) Silver Spun Sand1514 years 6 months ago
StoryWish bone for change Beeme714 years 6 months ago
Forum topicIs Correct Grammar and Punctuation Important? TheShyAssassin3014 years 6 months ago
StoryOn Believing the Unbelievable...(IP) Silver Spun Sand2614 years 6 months ago
StoryShaking Beeme414 years 6 months ago
StoryIf you meet me, have some sympathy 22 rjnewlyn814 years 6 months ago
StoryHieronymus Bosch's American Landscape barryj11214 years 7 months ago
StoryThe Colour Blue Silver Spun Sand2214 years 7 months ago
Storybig nothing haiku seannelson514 years 7 months ago
StoryHuman Vultures! prettyrose714 years 7 months ago
StoryThe Days of Maggie Spencer Silver Spun Sand1614 years 7 months ago
StoryPythagorean's Theorem Beeme1414 years 7 months ago
StoryRe source lenchenelf1114 years 7 months ago
StoryBandages maggyvaneijk2514 years 7 months ago
StoryTin Trailers, and Denim Hats MaggieG1514 years 7 months ago
StoryLearning To Fly skinner_jennifer2714 years 7 months ago
StoryMidnight Sun Silver Spun Sand1414 years 7 months ago

My stories

Cherry

Writing Poetry

IP: 30 word poem Our bodies curve into vowels and mouths shape soft, exotic verbs.
Poem of the week

The Equinox Parade

IP: Spring Each mauve petal folds into a balloon, straining its stem-string, wishing to rise into burning blue circles of sky; kites, birds - love songs.

Demands

You ask for the moon. I trek down into the indigo sky-mine, pickaxe in hand. Hack away at the blue rock, until I find a lump of ore - glowing like a pupil-less eye - lost its stare.

The Cuckoo's Nest

I behaved myself for months and was allowed some acrylics and canvas. After I painted over the security camera, tried to hang myself with my bed sheets.

We Rowed

Never the proud, protective lover; I was too fragile to break. We rowed, so I clawed at your face like a rake, slicing you to smother and smooth my ache.

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