Illustration of tree rings

HER Five Layers, whittled

The woods had walked her out, and she’d snapped. Her (bark) is worse, he tells their friends with a laugh that whittles.

whit-whit-whit-whit-whit

This flash was shortlisted in Retreat West’s monthly micro competition. Read it here.

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Yours Is The One With The Chip - The Hungry Ghost

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The Only Way I Can Make Sense Of The Word 'Recovery' Is To Smash It Into Pieces - Retreat West