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My stories
Departure detail
Her arm curving across the bed to his back, his name like a strike, the horse shaped piece of woodchip wallpaper, spreading, her dirty knickers, gusset up in the fireplace grate, the pickled eye of the bare light bulb,
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- 1646 reads
It takes five phasmids, to make me hate you
A very strange poem. From the speed words hastate and toroid. I would not recommend them. They are hard.
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- 1424 reads
Rubbish
I wish I had told you, not to. That it didn't matter if you bit back, rifled through anothers things
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- 2029 reads
Gill
The smooth armed philipino man step slides in with his chest of medicines, dishing them out with a thin-lipped smile. His name badge reads 'Gill', he cannot remember the last time a patients' recovery made him smile.
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- 1552 reads
Alice, it was an accident
I have been sleeping for you a lot, when the doctors are dumb I can hear you. Your hands up and through the windscreen, your chipped teeth and bright bloody hair, dont much matter when we sleeping.
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- 1820 reads