1-10 of 45 Hubssort by Hot Best Latest
61Hundreds of Butterflies. Chapter III
The third chapter of a short story I wrote a few years ago, I've changed it slightly for hubpages. It's slightly longer, and more narrative than my earlier, more lyrical short stories. The title is taken from a poem by George Cooper.
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60Hundreds of Butterflies. Chapter I
The first chapter of a short story I wrote a few years ago, I've changed it slightly for hubpages. Its slightly longer, and more narrative than my earlier, more lyrical short stories. The title is taken from a poem by George Cooper.
6 comments
60Hundreds of Butterflies. Chapter IV
The fourth chapter of a short story I wrote a few years ago, I've changed it slightly for hubpages. It's slightly longer and more narrative than my earlier, more lyrical short stories. The title is taken from a poem by George Cooper.
3 comments
59Hundreds of Butterflies. Chapter VIII
The eighth chapter of a short story I wrote a few years ago, I've changed it slightly for hubpages. It's slightly longer and more narrative than my earlier more lyrical short stories. The title is taken from a poem by George Cooper.
5 comments
59Hundreds of Butterflies. Chapter VII
The seventh chapter of a short story I wrote a few years ago, I've changed it slightly for hubpages. It's slightly longer and more narrative than my earlier more lyrical short stories. The title is taken from a poem by George Cooper.
2 comments
57Hundreds of Butterflies. Chapter IX
The ninth and final chapter of a short story I wrote a few years ago, I've changed it slightly for hubpages. It's slightly longer and more narrative than my earlier more lyrical short stories. The title is taken from a poem by George Cooper.
2 comments
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59Hundreds of Butterflies. Chapter V
The fifth chapter of a short story I wrote a few years ago, I've changed it slightly for hubpages. It's slightly longer and more narrative than my earlier, more lyrical short stories. The title is taken from a poem by George Cooper.
7 comments
53If I Could have A Year.
So my writers block has finally lifted agin, (even if only temporarily) and I'm back with another poem.
11 comments
59The Red Brick Prison. Chapter IV
He sat in the garden, of what could be called a garden. A grey bare yard, red brick wall encased, forger-me-nots winding in and out of the cracks in the old red bricks. No grass or flowers, soil or sand; just a square concrete. ...
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