fromagreenhill

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryThe sleep of trees fromagreenhill311 years 6 months ago
StorySilver Birch fromagreenhill211 years 6 months ago
StoryThe second coming fromagreenhill311 years 6 months ago
StorySalmon leap fromagreenhill711 years 6 months ago
StoryTracks fromagreenhill111 years 6 months ago
StoryThe tree of life fromagreenhill111 years 6 months ago
StorySoul making fromagreenhill211 years 6 months ago
StoryInuit dream fromagreenhill011 years 6 months ago
StoryIn memorium fromagreenhill211 years 6 months ago
StoryInspiration fromagreenhill211 years 6 months ago
StoryGrace fromagreenhill311 years 6 months ago
StoryEnantiodromia fromagreenhill211 years 6 months ago
StoryBeast Parson Thru813 years 4 weeks ago
StoryThe old house fromagreenhill413 years 4 months ago
StoryThe Return fromagreenhill513 years 6 months ago
StoryThe Light Parson Thru213 years 6 months ago
StorySpare me Parson Thru313 years 6 months ago
StoryWhen a Child Dies Richard L. Prov...213 years 6 months ago

My stories

The empty house

By fromagreenhill on Wed, 29 Feb 2012

The house smelled musty, it was cold, still and empty. Your chair was where it always had been, the magazine rack and the reading lamp standing by in case you came back.
Autobiography
Poem
Certificate U

Inuit dream

By fromagreenhill on Mon, 23 Jan 2012

I saw an Inuit man, he was standing in the snow with his back to me wearing a sealskin parka. People were approaching him and he was giving them things, more and more people came
Spiritual
Certificate U

Wreckage

By fromagreenhill on Sat, 17 Dec 2011

He kept returning to the wreckage, not because he liked it but because it was so strangely peaceful there. The worst had happened and life had gone on, the breeze still nagged
Spiritual
Poem
Certificate U

Red hat

By fromagreenhill on Fri, 11 Nov 2011

Hatred I hate you. I hate you with a passion the colour of pus. My friends tell me that it’s pointless to hate, that it doesn’t go anywhere and that love is better.
Autobiography
Poem
Certificate U

Old friends

By fromagreenhill on Fri, 28 Oct 2011

It’s still dark outside. I can hear my friend coughing in the room next door. Yesterday he was up all night. Neither of us have so many years left to live, but you don’t have to
Autobiography
Poem
Certificate U

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