ralph

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Forum topicNot been away markbrown218 years 4 months ago
Forum topicABCtales London Meet-Up 9th August tcook9618 years 6 months ago
Forum topicShock! Horror! England aren't the best football team in the world! pepsoid618 years 7 months ago
Forum topicIng-er-land tcook3318 years 8 months ago
Forum topicFor Rusty - Ralph poetjude118 years 8 months ago
Forum topicSafest by Michael Donaghy poetjude118 years 8 months ago
Forum topicHappy Slapper Slapped! karl_wiggins5018 years 10 months ago
Forum topicFactotum - The Movie karl_wiggins1318 years 10 months ago
Forum topicHow Long Have You Been Around? karl_wiggins4218 years 10 months ago
Forum topicOn Bleaker Street by ralph. QueenElf1018 years 10 months ago
Forum topicRent Boy ... ivoryfishbone419 years 2 weeks ago
Forum topicRalph Dartford Noticeboard319 years 1 month ago
Forum topicABCtales evening tcook6419 years 1 month ago
Forum topicDoes liking TS Elliot make you antisemitic? markbrown1119 years 1 month ago
Forum topicOut of Everything You Learned in School ... karl_wiggins1219 years 1 month ago
Forum topicThe Wayward Bus karl_wiggins419 years 1 month ago
Forum topicA Shadow Of His Former Self... mississippi1019 years 2 months ago
Forum topicwhat ya readin' ? anna_tempt1219 years 4 months ago
Forum topicSupport an ABCtales Member: Buy martin_t's book! markbrown819 years 5 months ago
Forum topicHurricane Katrina sgardiner4519 years 5 months ago
Forum topicOwen Money ely_whitley2119 years 5 months ago
Forum topicMo Mowlam tcook1119 years 6 months ago
Forum topicSum it up in a sentence markbrown2019 years 6 months ago
Forum topicanyone want to come see my movie maddan719 years 6 months ago

My stories

The Return Of Snowbaby

Once. Snow on my table. A tight, rolled ten pound note. Tears. Now. Snow against sodium. Dashboard, window frame. Morning. The first bus yawns by. Shivering overcoats. Scarves. Hats.

Night on Shaw Road

The little girl. She's telling me jokes, from her new, shiny book. Some we get, and some we don't. We laugh on the sofa. Demolish a packet of crisps. You are in the kitchen. On the phone,

Bournemouth. Two Weeks Before Christmas

The wind wraps me. Into you. And I can stand this now. For I am swept again. This isn't melancholy's jetsam, crashing a wave, hunting a riptide. I will not drown again. Am I clear on that?

Ruby's Felt Tipped Pen

Dolly in a push chair. Christmas, and carpet stains. An eight year old girl. Drawing me. On a whiteboard. Just off the kitchen. A tiny hand spiralling. Generous to my lack of hair. A tiny thumb in mouth.

Blow

Room scattered with the things that every days are made of rotting food from days ago stale curls of crisps her body is a centrepiece its skin iced, diced, puffed the blood needles high five her sleep

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