Miscellaneous
The Music of the Dead
Midnight in New Orleans. The streets are empty. Windows are devoid of light. A sticky heat oppresses those attempting to sleep along this once-...
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- 521 reads
Why Do People Do The Things They Do
Why Do People Do The Things They Do - by Paul McCann . https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K04hgGgyhuY&feature=youtu.be . He stands on the corner...
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- 5 comments
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- 2267 reads
Crispin (Working Title) Part 1
The air is composite and fresh; Crispin sucks it in dramatically and as it if were forbidden fruit. Apart from the slow expansion and contraction of...
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- 2 comments
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- 402 reads
On the Pavement
Like a secret sign from gypsies, a dead rabbit lay on the pavement at the side of the road; in a side-street of low-rise apartments, one street back...
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- 6 comments
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- 1556 reads
Blue with Raspberry Paisley
It was round eight in the evening... they’d start rowing again, my mum and my dad.
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- 14 comments
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- 7730 reads
Face the day
Having only recently written the words “Don’t fear the dead”, I awoke in my own private catacomb. Everything was still and silent in the impenetrable...
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- 3 comments
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- 1277 reads
Autumn Days (Seasonal Song)
1. When Autumn weeps its golden tears; its golden tears of joy, I think of happy olden years when I was just a boy. On all the trees, the Autumn...
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- 396 reads
Crick
‘Hush your mouth,’ Mama said, wielding a wooden spoon, ‘the word is creek.’ But Mama creek is the dying sound of that which is already dead. Creek is...
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- 2 comments
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- 705 reads
Life's Soup
My mother cut a piece of meat from her arm. Tears poured from her face and blood spilled on the floor. My mother took her flesh and put it in the...
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- 2 comments
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- 755 reads
Trigger Warning: Skype Notifications
I can hear him dividing his attention. Ding! Type Type Type Ding! type ding! - "Alexis?" Type Type Type Ding! Ding! Ding! Type Type Ding! Type type...
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- 317 reads