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stephentotheplate

Where poetry and stories collide.

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fiction

To Come Alive (poem)

She wakes while sleeping. While others rise with the dawn, their eyes popping open to see the day- She awakes when her eyes shut. Her world, only sensible when dreaming.

It never gets any easier, he mused as he stared down at the body. The hands still gripped the earth as they had in the moments before death. His stomach churred. He didn't want to be here. Why was his... Continue Reading →

Little Lucy crouched down in front of the animal, hand extended for it to sniff. It froze. Nose twitching, it inched closer. Curiosity, igniting bright, clear, eyes. She smiled at the little fox. It retreated. Her smile wavered. "I remember.... Continue Reading →

The library was silent when I entered. I walked past the long vacated tables. A smattering of books still graced the now antique, finely carved tables. Sustained, somehow after all these years. Relics of another life. I touched the top... Continue Reading →

Crush (prose)

She let herself enjoy the feeling. The feeling of the unknown. The maybe, the possibly, the could be. The thought of the new, so different, so- New. She enjoyed it. The getting to know him, the spending of time together.... Continue Reading →

With Feeling (poem)

Say it with your chest. Say it with confidence. Say it like you mean it. So that even on my worst day, I know you mean it. I’m not good with the in between stuff. If you love me, thinking... Continue Reading →

I could summon the hordes with a snap of my fingers, My feet, Rooted, planted to the ground I am connect. I could create floods, Hurled bolts of lightening across a placid sky. But I can't recreate the feeling of... Continue Reading →

Feelings (Microfiction)

This imagine invokes feelings. What exactly I feel, I'm not sure. I just know I like the opaqueness of the sky. The foggy-mistiness of the foreground. This imagine invokes feelings. Not quite sure what they are but, I like them.... 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 →

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