Random Unsorted Drafts

on one side of the door / locked / the glorious rays of sunshine / on one side of the door / locked / the uncleansing rain / the turmoil

and so the fires burn

through the speech

of fair ladies,

solemnly spoken

the words of beasts,

the potion of the

longing heart,

seeping down

her broomstick


one hundred and fifty-two words scattered
across thirteen lines,
four stanzas of near-rhyme chimes,
poetry subjected
poetry objected
poetry unmarked;
thus far

note to self: when your tutor suggested that you should drop your character into a situation and watch them develop, your story would probably have benefited (in length) if you had chosen a situation other than “open ocean + boat sinking + protagonist wearing concrete boots”. A short story does not imply a short life!

I Blame

I blame Satanโ€™s Little Mignonettes
I blame an innocent reboot of the black box in the corner
I blame stupidity on the part of the accused
I blame the stress being much too much stressed
I blame it all on the rogue DHCP server which served up
the drinks; the smokes; and the invalid IP addresses

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