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stephentotheplate

Where poetry and stories collide.

Tag

childhood

A List (poem)

The half-written poem. The half read book. The song left on pause. The bed rumpled on one side. The violin lessons started. The fall recital held but never the spring. A list of things begun and left undone. A list... Continue Reading →

Really?? (Microfiction)

"Sonya, Sonya!" Margaret whispered. "Whaaatt!" Margaret said in an exaggerated tone. "She cutting that cake with a butter knife!" Margaret slowly shook her head in shame "Its like she learned nothing." Welcome to week 170 of Three Line Tales! A... Continue Reading →

Lunch Date (Short Story)

Elizabeth took her time dressing. It had been a week since her pledge to be more intentional about herself so that meant dressing with a little more thought. When she was in college she stick with jeans and hoodies unless... Continue Reading →

Escape (Prose)

I used to live for worlds like Narnia, Used to search for its portals like some search for gold. A secret means to self-discovery. A place to encounter God, see Him, feel Him in a different way, Thinking that perhaps... Continue Reading →

Chapter 3: In the Mean Time…

Another's Treasure: Chapter 3 An hour later after seeing her walk into the lodge he entered his house. The place was a mess with canvases and easels littering the hardwood floors but thankfully it was warmer than outside.  Telling himself... Continue Reading →

Morning Rituals (microfiction)

She awoke to the sounds of someone whispering in her ear. Singing, they were singing. The soft, happy, song slowly pulling her from her dream world. Her lashes slowly pulling apart she was greeted by the warm smile of her... Continue Reading →

Tinkling Lights (Short Story)

"what beautiful fireflies", she'd chased them all evening and now worn out, tired, she'd given up her chase to enjoy their dance. Her parents watched in puzzled amusement. Her father commented about a bulb that'd just blown. who was she... Continue Reading →

Illusions of Grandeur

I dreamed of a life better than my dreams. One where my life had purpose. My dreams had meaning, ripe with the definitive. Illusions of grandeur Childhood is filled with them.   Dreams of what adulthood would look like. If... Continue Reading →

The Man that Never Showed

She was bitter. She wasn't quite sure what the word meant at that age but that's what she was. She would look back and could still vividly recall what it felt like. That particularly bitter sting of disappointment. Her father... Continue Reading →

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