Cool as daytime sky
Home of such marvelous life
With posing questions
How does it work?
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More stories from David Wood and writers in Poets and other communities.
These slopes are mine for the taking, I think to myself, as I stand atop the endless crowded hills on a snowy Colorado evening. I’m ready for this. AirPods in my ears set to the Snowboarding Playlist I created, I begin to jam my way down the slopes.
By David Wood2 years ago in Horror
we all slum it in the end even when we turn dirt to gold refuse to do what we're told turn gold to dirt refuse to do
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I can just see you from this chair Your laughter and sadness on stage I can only be a spectacle for it But if only for just a few episodes
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I have witnessed a death that I relive every time I step into an elevator. Although it no longer affects me as deeply—given that it's been 11 years since the incident—it remains a heart- rending memory from my first and last day as a paramedic. My initial call to the scene involved a man who seemed to have fallen down the elevator shaft of a high-rise building. Alternatively, it might have been that the elevator moved upwards while he was working on it. Different scenarios were being considered when I arrived.
By Penelope Henaina day ago in Writers
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