i saw a house this colour the other day. it was a blinding three story visual shock.

-by rinaedin

“turtlestone”

Where were you going?
Movement so slow it seemed like non-movement
Just a lump on the road
A slow-moving lump, legs like stumps
Eyes ancient, black, shiny as marcasites
Where were you going, moving so slow across the road?
Turtle, don’t go!
We brake for wildlife here
This story won’t break your heart
Tell a turtle to turn, really mean it
And he goes!
Glaring upwards, polished mud green box on legs turns
and disappears back into the dark under the trees.

-by lorichicago

“Camelot”

It’s storybook-like, but also a bit like fog. Reminds me of Camelot . . don’t know why.

-by Fritterqueen

“Compost”

There is a story here in the gathering of these elements: their steaming heat and crumbling of forms into homes for earthworms

-submitted anonymously

Tell me a story. Make contact with me somehow, give me your words, take me with you. Show me colors, show me love, despair, kindness and pains, show me the truth or tell me lies. I need human touch.

-submitted anonymously

“Ocean Springs Green”

Big mossy live oaks, wispy pines, poofy lopsided pecan trees, stately, glossy magnolias,

the trees of my town softly welcome artists, writers, storytellers, shoppers, children, musicians.

Others may be jealous, but these trees are better than money in the bank.

-by Heather

“toy story”

I see the old doll’s pram in the trash – remembering that she played with it incessantly, remembering the cat dressed in doll’s clothes and tucked up inside without a protest. Now it’s wheels are gone and it seems a sacrilege

-by ReTroGrrl