Sunday, 9 September 2007

Prompts 1445 Sunday

Bloody men

Let me never be a father

Single, Ticket

Exactly what I am

He burst from the cake, naked

He was captured in the valley of the women

Jenkins, all too clearly it is time.


It was late September, wet

I had just poured a glass of wine

It was then that I started to scream.

In the park, daffodils

He put one hand on my manuscript, the other down my dress


When I was young I believed in intellectual conversation

A good-looking secretary, blonde


The groans men use


Smooth as a swan, and as vicious


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