MistakenMagic
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My stories
Pour A Little Salt, We Were Never Here
October sunlight stumbles into the room as I rise, shrugging off the curious telepathy of dreams. Dandelion prints chase their yellow tails across the walls; it is as if you were never here.
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A List of Things I Would Do to James McAvoy
The street light on the corner faded to a flickering, blood-red wound, and when I woke up at dawn it stood there, black and solemn, like a burned-out match.
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Unexpected Intrusions of Beauty
the shrunken envelopes and newspaper are brown and crinkled like the underside of a mushroom, and the slender black sticks are curved with the symmetry of bones.
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Dali's Clock
I fear that I loved you so much I made you up. Wrapped in a towel, I look for evidence of your being here; your empty coffee mug on the table, a pound coin on the kitchen floor...
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Alors, On Danse
We are sitting at a table on the terrace, blowing smoke into our coffee, and throwing our heads back to laugh.
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- 7648 reads