HarryC
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| Type | Title | Author | Replies | Last updated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Story | The flea | Parson Thru | 3 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Suicide Notes | Bee | 15 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | A Rebel With Many Causes | luigi_pagano | 4 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | On the Edge of Damascus - (a photograph) | Bee | 11 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Back with Jack | Parson Thru | 2 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Bipolarparanoidschizophrenic | Timmy D | 5 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | I Should Of Said Yes. | prettyrose | 4 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Capturing Beauty | Bee | 23 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Forum topic | Bob Crow RIP | scratch | 6 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Forum topic | Will I be forgiven for making a Racist Comment? | karl_wiggins | 13 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Forum topic | Putting up work again | prettyrose | 5 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | The Art of Letting Go | Silver Spun Sand | 17 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | Humanity | Bee | 17 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Forum topic | Writing Courses: Myths Exposed | scratch | 26 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Story | A Short, Informal Essay On Politically Incorrect Humor | Aung S.K Min | 4 | 11 years 11 months ago |
| Forum topic | No cherries for JK Rowling | blighters rock | 12 | 11 years 12 months ago |
Pages
My stories
The Last Christmas Tree (1)
A short story I wrote a few years ago and sent to friends and relatives in place of Christmas cards that year. (image: my own)
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Strange Times...
I'm quite a rational person. I'm not superstitious, nor do I have any religious beliefs. I don't believe in fate or predestination. At the same time, I have spiritual beliefs... and I think there's much more going on 'behind the scenes' than we can ever really know about. Maybe that means my position is contradictory. But so be it. (Image: my own)
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Lines Written On My Mother's 90th Birthday
My mother, had she lived, would have been 90 today. I took the day off work in order to make a pilgrimage and commemorate the occasion. These are rough words, unedited, just as they came to me whilst walking. Not a poem. Not a story. Just words. (my photo)
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Gift: A Son's Story (Birthday)
Today would have been my mother's 90th birthday. Her final birthday was her 88th. Given how ill she'd been two months earlier, it was remarkable that she had made it that far. But it was a good day. We spent it in time-honoured fashion - talking about old times...
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Gift: A Son's Story (Blood)
After mum's funeral, I continued with the clearance of her bungalow alone as my brother and his wife had gone on holiday. Lottie, one of mum's favourite personal carers, had wanted to come to mum's funeral - but then hadn't. I was a little puzzled because she was so close to mum, but thought maybe - in the end - it would have been too much for her as she'd lost her own mother only a year earlier. Later, though, the truth surfaces... and throws a whole new light on my relationship with my brother, his wife and his step-daughter.
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- 2203 reads