Forgot your password?

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

Sign in

  • There was something about him that was so languid, lounging there looking cool in his flip-flops despite the baking heat.

    He could have looked out of place like that on one of the formal doorsteps of Fitzroy Square as office workers bustled by on their way home, passing through his domain.

    Not him. He'd taken ownership and belonged. As elegant as the masonry where he'd rooted himself. I wanted to sit down beside him stretch out my legs and let go of my burdens.

    But I had a film meeting to go to and the day was drawing on.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


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.