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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Today, I write for no one. The stab of the nib shall wound no page For you, no black wine flow in rivulets Dripping dead dots between the lines You failed to read. Dacryoma of the biro. I saw you drifting through sci-fi, Thought I might just ask you why. Elision always was an ugly thing...
  • Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
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    The window, curtained by dripping red drapes, was all I saw in those dreams. The wind flipped through the freezing air, rippling the hangings like bloodied smoke, twisting here and there. They never stopped. No light came through, only warped grey mist, seeping into the room. Fogging the house. I...
  • Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
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    Devon, May 1940 A tide of dust rippled through the air as mother pulled the curtains. Bold white stripes cut the room and turned the dust into a billion stars. Dark monsters from the shadows became brightened easels, pianos, coffee tables and chests. The sunshine cast copper reds into my brothe...

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