JupiterMoon

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
Storyfoolproof JupiterMoon313 years 1 month ago
Storyfather, son and white lightning JupiterMoon013 years 1 month ago
StoryElias and the King JupiterMoon013 years 1 month ago
StoryThis Also Shall Pass JupiterMoon713 years 3 months ago
StorySaturday night/Sunday Morning JupiterMoon313 years 3 months ago
Storyearly sun over Hope Valley JupiterMoon613 years 6 months ago
Storyflutter JupiterMoon313 years 7 months ago
StoryAbigail Jessiibear1913 years 8 months ago
StoryGames People Play MistakenMagic2513 years 9 months ago
StoryStrawberry Red JupiterMoon313 years 10 months ago
Storythe dying of the £1 wasp JupiterMoon113 years 10 months ago
Storystrangers sailing through a breakfast sea JupiterMoon313 years 10 months ago
Storyis this thing on? JupiterMoon213 years 10 months ago
StoryYou Breathe Jessiibear913 years 10 months ago
StoryWhere Butterflies Sleep Sooz0061313 years 10 months ago
Storyfade JupiterMoon213 years 10 months ago
StoryY Unman JupiterMoon313 years 11 months ago
StoryLove in a time of riots lavadis1113 years 11 months ago
StoryKorn lavadis413 years 11 months ago
StoryI am met at the crossroads by a horse of dangerous beauty lavadis713 years 11 months ago
Storysnail JupiterMoon214 years 1 month ago
Storywhy people in Range Rovers always look terrified JupiterMoon314 years 2 months ago
Storythere's few things more tragic than a wasted condom JupiterMoon414 years 5 months ago

My stories

the artefact that should never have become such

the artefact that should never have become such i just put it on my table, beside the coffee, and a crowd formed. at first, it was just one man,
Cherry

the first crack

the first crack cradling the final one, four hands fumble for the ailing pulse, as the coffee convoy leaves town. the occasional dropped bean crushed under ten tonne wheels.

lines

lines once upon a time people, were people, and machines were machines. now, looking out across a tempest of cabling, there are so many vessels – empty and drifting,
Cherry

flowers fell

flowers fell there can’t be many chances left. like wildflowers in a meadow choked by roads tangling and constricting old memories grown calloused and unyielding.
Cherry

Saturday night/Sunday Morning

Saturday night/Sunday morning dropped neon dragged behind traffic, as scratched letters bounce over the surface clinging now and then to lampposts trembling in the wind,

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