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The was a stream one would assume was dreaming, until you see the bank side sign that warns it's polluted with arsenic. The poison a remnant of long...

only when poised at the edge of dimension, awaiting a safe day for first contact, they see – a hideous hardcore refusing to welcome children in boats...

[Continuing the hymn-for-Sundays series] He was no ghost – he ate the fish, … Why do so many this dismiss, clear evidence ignore? And yet seem willing to believe in tales of things bizarre, that have no benefit to give, and very dubious are. …

The sun flickered through the trees, sprinkling sharp blinding flashes through the car window. Oakley’s eyes closed instinctively and disorientated...

The moment he steps onto the small stage. This is always a mixture of his deepest disgust. And his greatest desire. Those first seconds where...

Red lights flashed throughout the ship; sirens wailed in their wake. All of the Lores appeared to be moving to their action stations, including Sam...

A short poem

Music played in your caravan It wasn’t the Brotherhood of Man The kerranging guitars from Judas Priest, Screaming rock music unleashed from the East...

Beneath the black soil (in your dream attic), the unspent coins asleep lament their unspent wealth, hoarded by a corrupt cleric and buried in his...