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Chartheteacher
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White Horses
A Poem by
Chartheteacher
The salt of the sea and the soft of the sand, the calling gulls in my motherland, the creak of the deck and the curve of the wave, the sec..
Survivor
A Story by
Chartheteacher
I don't think about it everyday. It's not on my mind when I wake up or wash my face or call home. But it is always there; in the pit of my stomach, in..
For John
A Story by
Chartheteacher
The death I write about is not fiction. These words represent how I felt after a friends death. Please let me know what you think.
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