hippielettuce
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| Type | Title | Author | Replies | Last updated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Story | A Jumble [of words] | hippielettuce | 0 | 5 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Judith Wilkinson | hippielettuce | 4 | 5 years 7 months ago |
| Story | Where? | hippielettuce | 0 | 6 years 5 months ago |
| Story | understanding fire | hippielettuce | 1 | 6 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Solemnity in Paradise | hippielettuce | 2 | 7 years 1 month ago |
| Story | The Path of the Black Cat | hippielettuce | 2 | 7 years 5 months ago |
| Story | March/26/2015 | hippielettuce | 3 | 7 years 5 months ago |
| Story | Start | hippielettuce | 1 | 7 years 5 months ago |
| Collection | Every Day | hippielettuce | 0 | 7 years 9 months ago |
| Story | The Big Race | hippielettuce | 0 | 10 years 1 week ago |
| Story | In the Name of Art | hippielettuce | 2 | 10 years 1 week ago |
| Story | Consistence | hippielettuce | 3 | 10 years 5 months ago |
| Collection | Words That Rhyme | hippielettuce | 0 | 10 years 11 months ago |
| Story | I Can't Write | hippielettuce | 4 | 10 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Big Red | Richard L. Prov... | 2 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Forum topic | I adore this site. | hippielettuce | 10 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Pork Pies | The Walrus | 8 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | This Exploding Girl | maggyvaneijk | 15 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Nostophobia | hippielettuce | 3 | 12 years 11 months ago |
| Forum topic | Writer's block is like............ | Ed Crane | 11 | 12 years 11 months ago |
My collections
My stories
Judith Wilkinson
As I stood, my heart beat in my head and out my ears, in my throat and out my mouth, in my chest and through my pullover. Ronnie, the night nurse, wobbled down the stairs with the aid of the two detectives. Her eyes found mine, so I searched them. Ronnie was terrified. Ronnie was grieving. Ronnie was relieved to see me. She hadn't heard a thing.
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- 4 comments
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- 1543 reads
A Jumble [of words]
Fast forward through decades of talking but saying nothing to those who sing along with the expired split, crack, crunch of an autumn leaf without actually having felt it.
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- 539 reads
Where?
That first dawn in New York was a bust Street meter stole her coins, so she fought it. The tourists' widened eyes when she fussed, " How can I write when it's so friggin' chaotic? "
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- 583 reads
understanding fire
Red
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- 1 comment
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- 752 reads
Solemnity in Paradise
The lines in my palms glistened a violent crimson, and I realized with hopelessness what had occured. A blissful feeling in the air surpassed my dread, and my eyes shot up to her glowing face in the dark. " You made me do it again. "
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- 2 comments
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- 983 reads