Caldwell
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My stories
Goldilocks
Jamileh’s eyes darted around feverishly as she walked down the quiet street on the outskirts of Atlanta. The houses stood prim and square, shutters...
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- 636 reads
The jewellery box
The jewellery box was my gateway. When I lifted its clasp, the music — Für Elise, but thinned and sharpened by the tiny pins and teeth of the...
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- 507 reads
The Coffee Table
When I was twenty, I worked in Oliver Bonas on Kensington Church Street, directly under Anna Bonas herself. The stock never impressed me — torpedo...
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- 509 reads
The girl on the platform
The girl on the platform, waiting for her train. She looks kind of pretty, Though booze has soaked her brain It’s gone 3:00 a.m. And it's starting to...
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- 754 reads
Your Case Has Been Referred to an External Agency for Further Processing
At Paddington Station he's lost in the crowd, the tannoy repeats itself steady and loud: “Take extra care as you cross the concourse" With cameras...
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- 664 reads