JupiterMoon

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
Storyfoolproof JupiterMoon313 years 1 week ago
Storyfather, son and white lightning JupiterMoon013 years 1 week ago
StoryElias and the King JupiterMoon013 years 1 week ago
StoryThis Also Shall Pass JupiterMoon713 years 2 months ago
StorySaturday night/Sunday Morning JupiterMoon313 years 2 months ago
Storyearly sun over Hope Valley JupiterMoon613 years 5 months ago
Storyflutter JupiterMoon313 years 6 months ago
StoryAbigail Jessiibear1913 years 7 months ago
StoryGames People Play MistakenMagic2513 years 8 months ago
StoryStrawberry Red JupiterMoon313 years 9 months ago
Storythe dying of the £1 wasp JupiterMoon113 years 9 months ago
Storystrangers sailing through a breakfast sea JupiterMoon313 years 9 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 10 months ago
StoryLove in a time of riots lavadis1113 years 10 months ago
StoryKorn lavadis413 years 10 months ago
StoryI am met at the crossroads by a horse of dangerous beauty lavadis713 years 10 months ago
Storysnail JupiterMoon214 years 3 weeks 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

flapjack pigeons

flapjack pigeons a thin, grey lunch break inside a great, glass greenhouse: my numb fingers, break a Bakewell tart flavoured flapjack, into beak-sized bites,

christmas crows

Christmas crows quick black shadows pass by the skylight; hints of yesterday peeling away, to a pale grey sky beneath, left wanting, heavy with the promise of questions.
Cherry

early sun over Hope Valley

early sun over Hope Valley head back, the sleeping sun pours her storm black hair over the tooth broken shale, river aglint, in the pebbled flint, spilling down in the trackside gale.

break in at the heart

break in at the heart something, in the shining smile, shows me there is a way inside. this will take time: patience measured in Mondays, the warmth of friendship first,

portrait of the artist as a small man

portrait of the artist as a small man a weather bleached bench gapes onto a pale blue sky, fallen leaves, spilled over the ground as a copper blood-letting. here, is a Sunday place;

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