Cherrypicked stories
Joshua Tree
A soul on the scales, a crescent moon over the desert, and a grave decision made on the edge of death.
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- 1051 reads
Don't Ask
I once knew a girl who ate cereal with a fork. She said it was to control the Milk Element and I didn’t question her because I’d seen the way she skewered her raisins.
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- 2 comments
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- 1343 reads
The Modern Way
A GIRL sits at a dressing table looking at herself in the mirror. She is 17 but looks younger. She is small for her age and awkward with enormous eyes that are staring back at her.
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- 648 reads
My Little Eye
It was beginning to heal, but the gash where my eye had been still looked shocking. Clumsy black stitches and swollen clots ballooned in size under my scrutiny.
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- 1604 reads
Fresh tomatoes and bread
An old man receives a surprise visitor with news from his past that makes him reflect on things and changes his life forever
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- 2 comments
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- 891 reads
Harboil: Part III
Part III. The thing is: every box is worth opening. Also, envelopes and doors.
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- 869 reads
Abergavenny
He is so handsome that you might shatter with the force of it, I say. Your eyes can not grip on to a face that good, I tell them.
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- 2 comments
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- 2981 reads
A Pity You Didn't Johnny Appleseed
A pity you didn't Johnny Appleseed and scatter the products of your devotion to " the glamorous hell of love" they could spring up for the reading of the will with youthful juice
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- 1112 reads
Content and Container
Plain fucking awful, this propless play. Such advances: anatomically correct plugs, cosmetically tested lube, booting spit or piss and fist or microphone and broom into space. And we lie here:
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- 735 reads
The love nest
Joy came to him far from memories, where sea gulls, lost in flight, crossed the dusk between wind and rain, the rocks and the sand and the loneliness of the cliffs.
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- 921 reads
Errata: Twenty-Fourth Episode: Theatre of War
And I got to my feet, my wounds winking shut.
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- 809 reads
Buddhist Class
It is hard to feel enlightened When last night's peas are doing the rumba In your lower gut And you can't pronounce the name Of your leader: Mah-tru-dah-shu Mih-tra-din-she Moh-tru-don-sha
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- 696 reads
Harboil: Part II
The thing is: if you stand here long enough you’ll eventually be cordoned off.
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- 1099 reads
Lipstick Coffin Nail
Gin, Roses, and a Hell of a Hangover.
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- 1363 reads
Expansion Pack
Experience a fully interactive environment: millions of textures, new objects introduced daily. Authentic physical phenomena, including gravity, behaviour of light on water, autumnal colouration
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- 953 reads
Black Eyed Susan
Two days out of treatment and a walk in the garden.
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- 2111 reads
Pursuit
Hunted, by you, all over town, like debt collection was savage. Your hair. Your legs. Underpinned by wine, in overdraft bars. Name dropping, like breathing. Insecurity, laid bare.
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- 1130 reads