Cameron N

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryHow do we get back Cameron N08 years 7 months ago
StoryKeith Cameron N18 years 7 months ago
StoryThe Boy Who Makes Your Nose Tingle Cameron N011 years 9 months ago
StoryA Poem About the Moon Cameron N412 years 1 month ago
StoryIn Your Light Cameron N212 years 5 months ago
StoryLonging for an Absolute Cameron N112 years 5 months ago
StoryJoy Like No Other Cameron N312 years 5 months ago
StoryA Lonely Overture Cameron N012 years 7 months ago
StoryFridays Cameron N012 years 8 months ago
StoryWelcome to the Sun Cameron N013 years 2 weeks ago
StoryUrban Oasis Cameron N113 years 2 weeks ago
StoryLittle Flower Cameron N213 years 2 weeks ago
StorySelf-Redemption Cameron N113 years 2 weeks ago
StoryThe Men Are Doing Business Cameron N013 years 2 weeks ago
StorySmashed Cameron N213 years 2 weeks ago
StoryNothing but Letters Cameron N113 years 2 weeks ago
StoryThe Final Supper Cameron N013 years 2 weeks ago
StoryIn the Light of the Night Cameron N113 years 2 weeks ago
StoryI Don't Like It Here Cameron N313 years 8 months ago
StoryPain Like No Other Cameron N314 years 5 months ago
StoryFrom the Inside Cameron N014 years 7 months ago
StoryWhy did the star dust dance Mark Heathcote314 years 11 months ago
StoryThe Door: Chapter 1 Cameron N214 years 11 months ago

My stories

Smashed

Owww. It hurts to touch. Stop. Don't even come near. Purple, blue, green, yellow, a rainbow of pain. Smashed. It's all my own fault, too careless to watch out for my own. Will it break?

Nothing but Letters

She sits and she reads and she reads and she reads and she reads and she reads. What can she not learn form her marvelous reading? She reads fairytales with kings and queens.

The Final Supper

The five days and four nights have passed oh so quickly. Sitting here looking into is eyes across the table, I regret ever displeasing him. His smile is infectious.

Urban Oasis

8:15, Running early; My legs are stiff and aching, yearning to amble down the well worn path set before me. I succumb and proceed. The air is still as if time stands still;

The Door: Chapter 1

She slowly and cautiously lifted the latch of the door. The handle was heavy in her hand. Maybe it was made of iron, or even steel. Whatever it was, the metal was remarkably cold to touch.

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