Forgot your password?

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

Sign in

  • A busty Dutch broad on a Zeedijk stage was singing Geef Mij Maar Amsterdam.

    The crowd was leaning shoulder-to-shoulder under the orange streamers, strung from crooked gables.

    I didn't see you push your big black bike over the slick cobblestones, broken beer bottles, trampled confetti.

    Our friend in common walked out of the Barderij with another glass of cheap prosecco and said, "Oh! Here's Todd."

    I turned right 180 degrees to meet you. Your hat brim pulled down, your eyes curious, a bemused melancholy about your mouth.

    "Oh!" thought I. "Of course."
    • 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.