fromagreenhill
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| Type | Title | Author | Replies | Last updated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Story | The sleep of trees | fromagreenhill | 2 | 13 years 2 weeks ago |
| Story | Silver Birch | fromagreenhill | 2 | 13 years 2 weeks ago |
| Story | The second coming | fromagreenhill | 3 | 13 years 2 weeks ago |
| Story | Salmon leap | fromagreenhill | 7 | 13 years 2 weeks ago |
| Story | Tracks | fromagreenhill | 1 | 13 years 2 weeks ago |
| Story | The tree of life | fromagreenhill | 1 | 13 years 2 weeks ago |
| Story | Soul making | fromagreenhill | 2 | 13 years 2 weeks ago |
| Story | Inuit dream | fromagreenhill | 0 | 13 years 2 weeks ago |
| Story | In memorium | fromagreenhill | 2 | 13 years 2 weeks ago |
| Story | Inspiration | fromagreenhill | 2 | 13 years 2 weeks ago |
| Story | Grace | fromagreenhill | 3 | 13 years 2 weeks ago |
| Story | Enantiodromia | fromagreenhill | 2 | 13 years 2 weeks ago |
| Story | The old house | fromagreenhill | 4 | 14 years 10 months ago |
| Story | The Return | fromagreenhill | 5 | 15 years 1 week ago |
| Story | When a Child Dies | Richard L. Prov... | 2 | 15 years 2 weeks ago |
My stories
The sleep of trees
If only we could be more like trees and give up the whole summer in an inferno of gold, then go to sleep. If only we could bare our souls like that, stark to the winter’s night,
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- 2 comments
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- 1434 reads
Inspiration
That would be the sweet voice, the breeze that rustles the leaves of your mind. The silent voice that fills your heart with music and your life with colour, that cannot be seen and yet
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- 2 comments
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- 1104 reads
Silver Birch
He always had the feeling that he knew where he was going, he knew where and he knew why, but things happened, things he couldn’t really help but he regretted all the same,
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- 2 comments
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- 1013 reads
The old house
Many years ago the entire dining room ceiling had fallen down in one piece, it landed on the table, the floor, the beautiful art deco sideboard, the upholstered dining chairs and the cutlery,
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- 4 comments
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- 1579 reads
The second coming
When the cities have all died and the money has rotted, when humankind has either learned or perished, the trees will come again, nosing at the underside of the railway platforms
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- 3 comments
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- 1437 reads