a grey October morning, a FISH story by @NinaBellini

Reposted from here. He stripped me. Kissed the clothes straight off me after his sweet talk in the cafe. Please don’t judge me. We came to mine, to bed. I know. It’s only 10am. Ok. Judge away. But honest to fuck he’s doing something to me. I’m not sure what. But he’s doing something to

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Coelac*nt, a FISH story by @JamesLeLacheur

Reposted from here. 1938. Indonesian Archipelago. Tim swam furiously. This was bad. Reaching Coelacanth High Command he rapped on the door with a lobey fin, leaving it there for support while he gasped for breath. “Enter!” came the gravelly response. Less a voice and more a rumble of tectonic plates. Tim did so, seawater still

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Two Dozen Roses, a ROSE story by @spacewriting

Reposted from here: A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, I said. So I called him Graham Thomas and took him to bed with me. His scent was faded by morning, and he lay there, thorny as I teased him. Shall you be Olivia, shall you be Lara? Do you fly on

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Rose, a ROSE story by @books1799

Reposted from here. Rose, a famous actress, is telephoning her dressmaker from her dressing room. “Kenneth darling. You promised to send round that dress fabric sample with the rose motif. I haven’t got time to come to you. I’ve just finished a sodding matinee. I’m exhausted. Now this is what you do. You send that

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Rose Red, a ROSE story by @NathanRedland

Reposted from here. In a land east of the Sun and west of the Moon lived two sisters, fair of face and pure of heart. The eldest sister was as pale as a winter’s day, and so she was named Snow White. The younger sister had cheeks that flushed with life and colour, and so

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Sunrise, a ROSE story by @MrMoth

Reposted from here: We pushed through on the dawn, ragged banners tilting skyward as the sun’s dust punched holes in our eyes and set our clothes ablaze in gold. At that moment we could go no further, feet tangled in long grass taking root as our minds set out branches with fat, flat leaves to catch

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Simply not Cricket, a PITCH story by @ninabellini

Reposted from here. The September sun danced with the fruit in her glass of Pimms. Gentle clapping broke the silence, she’d joined him every match that summer and still had no idea how the game worked. She lowered her book onto her floral lap and clapped along, enjoying joining in despite not knowing what was happening

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The Pitch, a PITCH story by @NathanRedland

Reposted from here. “Men! Women! We stand here atop these walls to defend our homes, our land, our families (relations, ancestors, dynasties)! The enemy march this way, and they hate every aspect of our way of life, our nature, our society (civilisation, people, association)! But will they succeed (prosper, thrive, flourish)? No! For we will

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Pitch Pitch, a PITCH story by @jameslelacheur

Reposted from here. I trudged through the mist. White lines criss-crossed before me while dew-tipped grass blades slithered over my shoes, the heels of which sank an inch or so into the soft earth with every step (I’d been told it would be wise to make use of my feminine wiles – what few of

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The Baseball Game, a PITCH story by @seenitheardit1

Reposted from here. It was a scratch game. There was a field behind the high school and they’d get together and play a little ball after class sometimes. Nothing special mostly. But it was different that day. It was raining and a bunch of the guys said let’s come back tomorrow. It’s gonna be nice

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