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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryThat Morning fatboy74283 years 4 months ago
StoryRibbons thanksforthepar...37 years 2 months ago
StoryThe twelve austere days of Christmas valiswaverider18 years 6 months ago
StoryThe Chauncellor thanksforthepar...08 years 6 months ago
StoryPicture at an Exhibition Silver Spun Sand119 years 1 week ago
StoryIsolation is the Gift Thomas Frye29 years 1 month ago
StoryOne autumn leaf (IP) Rhiannonw99 years 2 months ago
StorySeeing Clouds, Seeing Crumbs thanksforthepar...39 years 11 months ago
StoryWake Up Call sid1910 years 2 weeks ago
Blog entryMy Baby Shot Me Down - An Anthology by Women Writers Luke Neima1210 years 2 weeks ago
StoryWinning thanksforthepar...210 years 1 month ago
StoryThat Kensington Hotel smokejack410 years 1 month ago
StoryUnity!!! God'sPoeticChild210 years 1 month ago
StoryHere I Stand... maddie904310 years 1 month ago
StoryComplaint Bee4210 years 1 month ago
StoryHeadline: It's Official You can Batter a Burglar thanksforthepar...1210 years 3 months ago
StoryResonance thanksforthepar...210 years 3 months ago
StoryNotes on the State of Adult Social Care - 1. The Standard High Backed Chair; Adjustable - Without Wings thanksforthepar...410 years 3 months ago
Forum topicEncouraging new talent Kizzy810 years 4 months ago
Storywedding rings & religious emblem necklaces delapruch110 years 4 months ago
StoryHer 64th boyfriend lavadis1810 years 4 months ago
StorySo the Story goes thanksforthepar...610 years 4 months ago
Storymother had an artist delapruch510 years 5 months ago
StoryThird Line Syndrome blighters rock410 years 5 months ago
StoryPunk Nirvana_ophelia510 years 5 months ago

My stories



She's been popping them out for thirty odd years She's out in the street, gone and her feet are cut to ribbons.

The Chauncellor

He's round the back smoking crack with underage girls Writing heartache manifestos we'll roll up our sleeves and say “bloody” smiling on production lines holding up his little red box.

Seeing Clouds, Seeing Crumbs

I see bleached dry bones; picked clean by wild dogs the valley echoes with their howls


Love is fierce, a fire. Can you feel it burning you? The dictionary tells me that love is; a strong feeling of affection for another person; a...


For jarring fascinating minutes. It was in my ribs. Your voice, the bench, my bones.