Tag: #writephoto
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THE PAINTED LADY

He was drunk. He had to admit it. Not slightly inebriated or a bit tipsy, but flat out drunk. There would be trouble when he got home. In his mind he rehearsed the route he would take from the front door to the bedroom – probably via the bathroom – and the movements he would…
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THE DANCE

‘Yer gonna be late,’ his ma shouted at him from the kitchen. ‘Ahm jist tryin’ tae get masel’ lookin’ right, ma,’ he called back. ‘It’s too late fer that, son,’ she replied, ‘about fifteen years too late.’ She didn’t understand, this was the night he would ask Justine. He should have done it before now.…
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THE WAY ACROSS THE WATER

They called it a victory. It didn’t feel like a victory to him. He had seen to much to call it a victory. The bombed-out buildings; the fighting; the gunshots; the gas; the bombs; the dead bodies; the dead soldiers, theirs and his own comrades; the bloodshed; the injured; the children crying in the streets;…
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EVE

The monster haunted her every dream. A giant, ten-feet high, with blue glowing eyes and long willowy tendrils. It came for her through the fire and smoke, a vision of Hell surrounded by the dead. She knew why it came for her. It knew she was vulnerable, a victim, an easy target that it could…
