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Wastage

John Grey·June 17, 2019

Wastage written by: John Grey Garbage trucks again. Who needs an alarm clock? Or partying neighbors? But...

Poetry English

·1 min read

666 Hope Avenue

Godfrey Holy·April 20, 2019

666 Hope Avenue written by: Godfrey Holy That new house smell has long faded__ drifted away to...

English Featured Post Poetry

·1 min read

Night Of The Nectarine

Heath Brougher·February 7, 2019

Night Of The Nectarine written by: Heath Brougher Houses with lights in their windows run an unsteady pattern...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Subtle

Giusepphine·January 24, 2017

Subtle written by: Giusepphine @giusepphine Fresh, clean Delicate smell The kind That you only notice When you...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Morning Glory

Anne G·September 20, 2015

Morning Glory A Poem by Anne G Morning glory, weekend bliss; well earned hours, free from care. Buttermilk...

English Anne G

·1 min read

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I was born and raised in Yorkshire, England. At fifteen I left school without the skills or maturity to appreciate the wider world. At nineteen I packed a bag and wandered through Europe and North Africa, learning from the road. At twenty‑five I earned the qualifications for university, eventually becoming a high school teacher and later an education manager. Now I live with my amazing wife on an island north of Seattle. After retiring and with encouragement from Spillwords and the Clever Park Writers Group, I traded reports for storytelling. And that's where the fiction began...

Cast Off by Niall Crowley

The two computer screens tighten their grip. Tom pivots between them, tracking one while he works on the other. Careful discipline from early morning to close of business. Number crunching, he would have termed it before. Now it’s data management and verification, his task to model and tabulate clients’ financial situations and options. Bookkeeping, he would admit to, in more candid moments. He’s tethered firmly to the task, though, and has been since he started here, nearly two years now. Bound in the rigour the work requires, as if life itself depends on it. Top floor, dormer window ...

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Wastage

666 Hope Avenue

Night Of The Nectarine

Subtle

Morning Glory

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Junior

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