Cherrypicked stories
Formalities
Surprised by a visit from the tea-black priest with white-white teeth, who yarred about God, with seedlings of sweat on his forehead while our bags were rifled through for 'contraband' and we three squatted at the roadside.
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- 1434 reads
Write to Romance (short story pub. in 2000 'Urban Scrawl')
It was no good. Jessica couldn't stop herself. Her eyes scoured the room again - where was he? A gentle cough from somewhere high behind her, made her turn and bam! Their eyes locked.
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- 2864 reads
When does it stop
Something i forced myself to write... i have no idea if it's any good... pleeeease let me know! (will be edited soon)
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- 1447 reads
Set
went next door to talk to Winston he dealt some cards and brought out the brandy and told me about his greyhounds.
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- 1646 reads
Three Haikus about Spring
I saw daffodils being trampled by a boy.
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- 1584 reads
Anemones are coy
The night after I had been dreaming of tropical fish in eighties corporate fishtanks, I woke up with my skull as tight as a buoy. I spent the day bobbing between bed and toilet bowl, throwing up with tidal regularity.
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- 1667 reads
A Philosophical Thing
another story about death and family
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- 2008 reads
Pub Whisper
A bag lady takes the last seat at a table. She asks for a light, profers cigarettes but no one there is a smoker.
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- 1284 reads
They couldn't stop tickling each other
When they ate out they had one rule - they were not allowed to order for themselves
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- 2169 reads
Camilla (edited)
Okay, I listened to all the comments, and came out with something a little different.
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- 1661 reads
Put me in your pocket
A speed poem
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- 1364 reads
How To Walk On Water
It was April in June; spring's very own month of non-stop decadence two months overdue. All of the trees, and all of the tangled roots and shoots below them, were erupting in a lusty chorus of wind-tickled new growth, the tick-tock of dandelion clocks and (if you listened carefully) the provocative ripening of stickybuds...
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- 1914 reads
The Golden Egg
At The Golden Egg, a cafe, where ugly folk eat all day breakfasts, we sip, smoke, read The Mirror, The Sun, take notes in reams.
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- 3622 reads
Jellyfish gurgle through the watercooler
A villanelle
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- 1543 reads
Death's Uneasy Alliance.(or pull up a Pew)
Death didn't look up to much today; in fact he looked positively wilted. His black suit needed pressing, the crisp white shirt in need of some starch and his tie was drooping at half-mast. 'Care for a snifter, matey?' I asked casually, knowing his temper was unreliable at best and earth shaking at it's its worst.
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- 1570 reads
006 In Celebration of the Cervix
I have to confess I enjoy doing pap smears.
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- 2671 reads
Not Fine
every now and then it hits me, there's nothing you can do, no comfort, no consolation, no "You have to move on" will do me any good
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- 1081 reads
Forever And A Day.
How translucent her skin looks in the moonlight, the faint cobweb of blue veins tattooing a map to her heart. I could strike now, but first I need to look into her eyes, those glittering blue orbs that have kept me spellbound for so many years. A pale gleam from the bedside light casts shadows around the room. How they leap from corner to bed and back again, ricocheting the knife's silvery threat. Her pupils are large, good girl; she has taken the tablets I left for her. Now all that remains is the ritual ceremony, and for that she needs the silken scarves removed from her dainty arms. Silently her eyes beseech me as I gently unwind the knotted silk, only the best for my beloved. I raise her enough to drink the wine and take my own cup, as the seconds tick away I am drowning once again in her hypnotic gaze¦¦¦¦
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- 1366 reads