Dean F. Hardy

Joined June 2021

33 stories

Bio

Writer from Dublin, Ireland.

*All work here is owned by Dean F. Hardy*

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Stories (33)

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Post Office. First Place in Book Club Challenge.
By the time my final year of university came squealing around the bend I was dropping grades at the same rate I was dropping ecstacy.
By Dean F. Hardy2 years ago in BookClub
In Blume. Top Story - August 2023. Content Warning.
Jesus. Her hands are around my throat again. They're tight and my windpipe is wilting. I don't struggle. I can't seem to take my eyes off hers; cold cobalt in scorched tarmacadam. She's foaming at the mouth and a dehydrated rabid spittle has formed at the corners of her lips and it falls on me sporadically, sticking to my lashes and casting a strange haze to my vision.
By Dean F. Hardy2 years ago in Fiction
Ode, to the Roof Beams
I write this in a state of bliss, late at night, under the dim lamplight, there is wine nearby in case my soul runs dry
By Dean F. Hardy2 years ago in Poets
You Know and I Know
when the dawn breaks when the moon quakes when all you knew escapes You know and I know . when your heart bursts your ears
By Dean F. Hardy2 years ago in Poets
Honours Student
I remember the men I dug holes with in the Summer of 2014, I had just graduated with an honours degree in theology & history
By Dean F. Hardy2 years ago in Poets
Take a seat, and I'll tell you
Love. Have you ever been in Love? Love is a wall of iron Love is a hot vile shot into the vein Love, is what is said when it is too late
By Dean F. Hardy2 years ago in Poets
Cannibal. Top Story - July 2023.
To those who believe in the philosophy to deplatform, to censor to silence: be careful of the machinery you build, be careful of the precedent
By Dean F. Hardy3 years ago in Poets
Professional
When i'm at my worst i'm drunk When i'm at my best i'm drunk When i steal your woman or when you steal mine i'm drunk
By Dean F. Hardy3 years ago in Poets
Take my picture in Howth
Tide's pushed out today, whistling wind holds the gulls aloft and still as the sun gives them their spotlight, to perform
By Dean F. Hardy3 years ago in Poets
Praise, the LORD. Top Story - June 2023.
"how can you write poetry and not like poetry?" she asked. "i don't know." "well, what is it you don't like?" "it seems detached to me. like something
By Dean F. Hardy3 years ago in Poets
Monstre De Cirque
His lungs rasped inside the tiny room. He sat with his reflection, by candlelight and wrote her: "Could I create myself anew, I'd not fail in pleasing you."
By Dean F. Hardy3 years ago in Fiction
Afterwards
The promise of rain trickled through the balcony door. It danced pleasantly between them. Pink and sweaty and naked. -Did'ya get there?
By Dean F. Hardy3 years ago in Fiction