Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • The memory of you both is fading. The house has been scrubbed of your grease, your dirt, your smell of burned food cooked far too late in the evening. You are becoming a story we tell to others over a glass or two of wine: "Remember those two housemates of ours..?"

    Like a failed romance. The same bitter notes sent back and forth in the last days before you had boxed all your things and left, the door banging angrily after you.

    The cats have relaxed. We've stopped locking up the booze. The neighbors no longer assail us with stories of hearing your drunken phonecalls in the driveway late at night.

    It started out so well. Ended so badly.

    We all lived, however, to tell the tale. Each in their own way.

    So it goes.
    • Share

    Connected stories:

About

Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.