maggyvaneijk
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My stories
Diary of a motel receptionist.
I suck Coca-Cola through a straw and pluck out an eyelash, a man on telly screams “please watch me, please”
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- 15965 reads
The night before the wedding.
The night before Vincent's Wedding
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- 6665 reads
Whore
With the cool night air caressing her forehead, she reassures herself that she is still here.
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Panic.
Two sisters. Post panic-attack.
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- 8686 reads
Isn't that what they say about dying?
Vision became impaired but without sharp wind the weather was bearable, sort of. They both stuck out their tongues and caught a flake.
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- 4138 reads