JupiterMoon
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| Type | Title | Author | Replies | Last updated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Story | early sun over Hope Valley | JupiterMoon | 6 | 12 years 7 months ago |
| Story | flutter | JupiterMoon | 3 | 12 years 8 months ago |
| Story | Abigail | Jessiibear | 19 | 12 years 9 months ago |
| Story | Games People Play | MistakenMagic | 25 | 12 years 10 months ago |
| Story | Strawberry Red | JupiterMoon | 3 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | the dying of the £1 wasp | JupiterMoon | 1 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | strangers sailing through a breakfast sea | JupiterMoon | 3 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | is this thing on? | JupiterMoon | 2 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | You Breathe | Jessiibear | 9 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Where Butterflies Sleep | Sooz006 | 14 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | fade | JupiterMoon | 2 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Y Unman | JupiterMoon | 3 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Love in a time of riots | lavadis | 11 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Korn | lavadis | 4 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | I am met at the crossroads by a horse of dangerous beauty | lavadis | 7 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | snail | JupiterMoon | 2 | 13 years 2 months ago |
| Story | why people in Range Rovers always look terrified | JupiterMoon | 3 | 13 years 3 months ago |
| Story | there's few things more tragic than a wasted condom | JupiterMoon | 4 | 13 years 6 months ago |
My stories
Painting for Lemonade
painting for lemonade an ancient man, brittle on a wooden stool, slowly painting his gate-post. a day of raw sunshine, but autumn will soon roll over the horizon. by winter the
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- 979 reads
there's few things more tragic than a wasted condom
there’s few things more tragic than a wasted condom deep in the night - somewhere around 4am, i crawl awkwardly from the bed. cold rubber against the sole of my foot,
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- 4 comments
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- 1604 reads
cortege
cortege like an eel, the cars crawl in a line over the curling russet cushioned carpet. shiny black metal polished with late afternoon sun, a solemn, sluggish pace set
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- 2 comments
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- 984 reads
ink black
ink black an ebony lacking in all possible reflection; limpid, mildewed blackness crushing forward, through a glassy introspection, solid, insurmountable
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- 711 reads
you know, whatshisname who had the desk by the watercooler
you know, whatshisname who had the desk by the watercooler 'stop being careful' was the last thing he wrote. as a note, to himself, on the blank back page of a diary.
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- 1 comment
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- 778 reads