tessdavies

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryBeing Five smokejack44 years 4 months ago
StoryBubbles and Wasps tessdavies612 years 12 months ago
StoryAunt Audrey tessdavies712 years 12 months ago
StoryArtichokes tessdavies312 years 12 months ago
Forum topicWaterstones Books Quarterly Short Story Comp tessdavies012 years 12 months ago
CollectionPoems 2010 tessdavies012 years 12 months ago
CollectionShort Stories 2010 tessdavies012 years 12 months ago
StoryPacing tessdavies113 years 1 month ago
StorySalvage tessdavies013 years 1 month ago
StoryOn the Bright Thread of Time tessdavies013 years 1 month ago
StoryLand Girl tessdavies013 years 1 month ago
StoryJanuary 12th tessdavies013 years 1 month ago
StoryDiary tessdavies213 years 1 month ago
StoryFirst Drink tessdavies113 years 1 month ago
StoryFifteen Elvis Look-a-likes tessdavies013 years 1 month ago
StoryDiary of a motel receptionist. maggyvaneijk2415 years 6 months ago
StoryDo They Sing? tessdavies315 years 11 months ago
StoryHiding Beeme3315 years 11 months ago
StoryOde to a Roadside Snack-bar Luly Whisper615 years 11 months ago
StoryIsland States tessdavies215 years 11 months ago
Forum topicPlease ask your questions here: tcook3815 years 11 months ago
StoryThe Leper King tessdavies216 years 2 months ago
StoryDust samhennig616 years 2 months ago
StoryPTSD tessdavies216 years 2 months ago
StoryThe Child Anna Marie216 years 4 months ago

My stories

Cherry

January 12th

This shadow, multiplying mother after mother, is where my daughter labours in her own time her face a pale distance from mine. She rocks, gripping my hand tight so the rings hurt,
Cherry

On the Bright Thread of Time

On the bright thread of time I am nobody’s child On the bright thread of time I am not your mother But some kind of kindred spirit With the power of a larger body
Poem of the week

Artichokes

In the morning she woke, body a sun-baked stone only her lips alive. Light streamed through the window touching her body, dissolving its’ white dust to gold
Cherry

Land Girl

“A beautiful world,” Joyce murmured, “but going on too long.” Every branch on every tree had a neat layer of snow and the sun shone from a hard, blue sky.

Bubbles and Wasps

Every summer William and his mother set off from Brighton to stay with his grandmother in South Wales.

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