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Short story: Siren Song

A siren wails in the dark, summoning those who are susceptible to her charms.

Short story: A Love Story

photo of a sundial

He says, do you remember the day we met?

Short story: Strawberry Lips

soda fountain

She's a soda-fountain girl with plump strawberry lips and cherry cheeks and the kind of smile that makes your stomach go fizz.

Short story: Quiet Desperation

picture of a man with a briefcase

Maybe I go to work every morning at six.

Short story: The Booking Agent

The skin on the man’s face looked like a diseased ham, shiny pink with patches of white flaking from his nose, forehead, chin, even eyelids. He was even sweating like a pig.

Short story: The Night Watch

Picture for The Night Watch

Through the dark streets they carouse and slide and caper and slither and creep, metamorphising in each streetlight, snatches of snickering song bouncing off the pavements and bitumen and concrete and glass.

Short story: The Spy


I’m pretty sure I know what I want to be when I grow up.

Short story: The Baby Monitor

photo of baby monitor

I wish the baby would quiet down, just for a minute. He fusses and he squirms and he just won’t still, just won’t relax, just won’t settle.

Acrostic: Fireman


The fireman, his eyes

Short story: The Writer

He was a cool customer, with his strut, his dark oblong glasses, his shaggy fringe, his pilled charcoal beret.

Short story: In A Perfect World

The park was windy and desolate, as the dark grass struggled through deciduous muck and the trees rattled skeletally, their colourful autumn ballgowns discarded for a naked death.

Short story: Runaway

The phone rings.

Short story: The Bazaar

In the dusty bazaar, the heat settles in a heavy golden haze around the hard packed earth, the wooden tables, the dirty and torn canvas stands.

Short story: Bitch

Lie in bed. Discontented. Alone. Not sleeping. White sheets, crisp and clean.

Short story: Tycoon

I’m a rich man, a tycoon, a player, one of the top ten most eligible bachelors of all time.

Short story: Everything's Okay

To find your way into her blue heart, frozen solid,

Short story: The Guardian

I’m the guardian of this place.

Short story: Golden

Through a golden haze, as terrible as the sun and as potent as a sealed garage full of petrol fumes, that’s how I see my future.

Short story: My Kingdom

He turns his face up toward the sun, and lets the warmth cascade down him like water, getting deep into the wrinkles that cut up his skin.

Short story: Invitation

Wearing a mask and reeking of gin, the old sailor rolls crocodile tears down his face over the real tattooed ones.

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