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Short story: Mean Girl

She sits opposite me, belligerent, narrow-eyed, slumped over.

Short story: Torture

His face drops like a bloodhound, sagging through the chin, slack with pain.

Short story: In The Night

You creep, insidiously, as I sleep, carried like algal bloom on a polluted tired tide.

Short story: Insomnia

On a knife-edge.

Short story: Doorman

The concierge, sharply dressed, raps the door, gift in hand.

Short story: The Rapture

Tough tattoos, spiky jewelery, cracked teeth, stale breath, a raised eyebrow, a broken fist.

Short story: Beauty

She tucks her hair up under the her tiara, and lets the ladies fuss around her makeup.

Short story: The Pirate

I'm a roving adventurer; a wanderer on the high seas, a slick and daring silver tongued genius with a taste for exotic women and expensive wine.

Short story At The Beach

I love going to the beach.

Short story: In The Garden

A flower wilts in the hot sun.

Short story: Searching

When the wind blows at night, sweeping the rocks and gently directing the salty spray of the sea, I can't sleep.

Short story: The Night Sky


p>I feel like a spaceman at altitude; maybe - I've never been one so I don't know.

Short story: The Artist


p>My art space is a smooth, flat, white space with a dent right in the middle, where, in a fit of pique, someone may have rammed their fist.

Short story: Barflies

The pianist sticks to the bench and roughs up the keys like he's sparring with the elephant they came from.

Short story: Stillness

An orange on the counter with a thumbnail indentation.

Short story: Keeping Up Appearances


p>I was wearing one oven mitten in a floral print and holding a dishcloth with a picture of a kitten in the other hand, leaning over the oven and pulling out a tray of biscuits when I felt something at my feet.

Short story: Not This Time

She looked back at me, trying to be penitent, trying to look contrite and like she was honestly sorry and like she knew what she'd done and how in the wrong she was.

Short story: At The Pub


p>I admit it, I was a bit pissed.

Short story: Aspiration

I like to ensure that, before I leave the house for the morning, my beard is freshly trimmed, my teeth are shining like a toothpaste commercial, and the tips of my shoes are gleaming with reflected early morning sunlight. I use cold cream on my face at night to keep my skin elastic, and every second evening place cucumber slices over my closed eyes to restore that green glint, to reduce redness, and to slow down the aging process.

Short story: Leaving

I’m going to leave now.

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