samhennig
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| Type | Title | Author | Replies | Last updated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Story | More | samhennig | 2 | 6 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Quarantine | samhennig | 8 | 6 years 2 months ago |
| Story | ghost | samhennig | 0 | 6 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Pieces | samhennig | 1 | 6 years 7 months ago |
| Story | forgive | samhennig | 3 | 6 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Hair dryer | samhennig | 0 | 6 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Today | samhennig | 3 | 6 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Marks | samhennig | 0 | 7 years 1 week ago |
| Story | Whole | seashore | 29 | 7 years 2 weeks ago |
| Story | friday | samhennig | 3 | 7 years 4 months ago |
| Story | untitled | samhennig | 0 | 7 years 5 months ago |
| Story | edges | samhennig | 0 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | All day | samhennig | 4 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Pythia | samhennig | 4 | 8 years 2 months ago |
| Story | Writers' Retreat | maggyvaneijk | 21 | 8 years 3 months ago |
| Story | a place I never knew | samhennig | 4 | 8 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Breaking the ice | samhennig | 4 | 8 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Smoker | samhennig | 2 | 8 years 8 months ago |
| Story | The desert | samhennig | 2 | 8 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Years ago | samhennig | 8 | 8 years 8 months ago |
| Story | I am the shore, You are the ocean | samhennig | 9 | 8 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Peaches | shoe | 8 | 8 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Futures falter | samhennig | 7 | 8 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Treading water | samhennig | 1 | 8 years 10 months ago |
| Story | The Dead Man's Garden | Jane Hyphen | 12 | 8 years 11 months ago |
My stories
Winter mornings
Despite the broken blind on the Velux no light creeps in. The pain behind my eyes makes the day feel like it isn’t ready to begin. Feet so heavy as...
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- 334 reads
The bench at the top of the hill
On a clear day you can just about make out the city clawing at the sky. A red light flashing, like a distant warning. Apart from that the...
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- 1 comment
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- 390 reads
Autumn
I watch ochre and auburn pass by, flashes of the countryside. Like fire, leaves turning make pictures in your mind of years gone. I watch on. Falling...
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- 1 comment
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- 313 reads
Another
I am not writing this to write well, or to be right. I am writing it because I do not know what else to do. If we call ourselves, artists or writers...
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- 2 comments
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- 620 reads
You are
Even though the only sound you hear is a melody of birds; the ratata of a distant woodpecker. Even though the coffee carried in plumes that play in...
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- 3 comments
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- 1203 reads