I'm a writer and avid reader; extrovert, intellectual and all-round creative type. I want to write and make people feel. I tend not to stick to one genre but I'm not a poetry fan. I love feedback, I love messages and most of all I'm interested in finding out about places to meet other writers, exchange ideas and post good work. Let me know if you have any you can tell me about, I'd love to hear from you. At the moment I seem to be exploring my morbid streak. It's a thing with me, I'm a lady of extremes. Write to me and say hi, if you wish.
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Neil Gaiman ooooooooooooh awesomeness. Anyone read American Gods?
I always remember you’re not here. Such a smiling countenance, so much orangeness so very gone I hear you in the silence of the passageway the silence of the house and the silence of the yard (I didn’t even know I was chatting, shuffling around in our island of a house and now I’m just talking to myself) I’m aching for the feel of my dingo friend not lost not alone. Patient Hairy ...
Added 11 Oct 2011 | Category Poetry | Votes 3 | Avg Score 4.67 | Views 1,316 | 2 Comments
In the abandoned building, amid the rubble, Abraham disrobes. His pale skin glows in the sun, his dark chest hairs protrude, accentuated by the shocking milkiness of his torso. He holds his hands high, grinning. Maggie unpacks their meager picnic scrounged from a recent dumpster dive. She arranges the slices of stale fruit bread using a plastic bag as a plate. As Abraham proudly displays his...
Added 23 Aug 2011 | Category Flash Fiction | Votes 3 | Avg Score 3.67 | Views 1,425 | 3 Comments
Life, she laughs at me, especially tonight as I sit at my computer. The machine is a heap of shit. The keys are sticky with age; the keyboard is stained and the space button is missing. Instead of a large friendly space bar, all I have is a small plastic sensor. I've been training my fingers to touch with fair accuracy. I believe that if you don’t make your decisions then nobody will...
Added 01 Aug 2011 | Category Flash Fiction | Votes 6 | Avg Score 5 | Views 1,863 | 4 Comments
When I finally roll out of bed it's late on Saturday morning. The daylight seeps in, past the shitty layers of sheets strung up over the large window. It reigns dirty yellow light over my squalid kingdom. I attempt to get up, tipping and swaying; my body an unwilling vessel on the high seas of my hang over. Outside the corridor is much darker. The hallway carpet deadens my footfalls as I...
Added 27 Mar 2011 | Category Drama | Votes 2 | Avg Score 5 | Views 1,290
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