From a series of short form fictions taking inspiration from collage “Can I really? Can I stay to help you? Will you let me?” Although Princess Marrigova hardly knew the young man, a mystery concealed within his gentle gaze gave reassurance. Today, she thought, would be the beginning of a new chapter in her life.… Continue reading Can I Really?
From a series of short form fictions taking inspiration from collage "Are you following me?" He called out, in an off-hand manner.The voice - familiar as it was, sounded close behind me. I turned around startled, "Am I, following you?" I said, conveying a degree of the confusion I felt regarding his question. "I could… Continue reading Different To The Others
From a series of short form fictions taking inspiration from collage “I’m not accustomed to being referred to as ‘Love’, thank you very much.” Samuel Shepherd, sheep-herder ancestral, turned away from the headstrong young man. "And, despite your good luck with herding the flock this afternoon, I'm sorry Henning, but I do not see the… Continue reading I Can Explain
The third instalment from a series of short form fiction; inspiration taken from collage by pedrov_dog That was some weird experience. One minute I’m at Susie's party, dancing - with Susie and Beth under the disco ball and the next, said disco ball - without warning, falls from the ceiling, lands on my head, knocking… Continue reading Some Kind Of Sick Joke
The second instalment from a series of short form fiction; inspiration taken from collage by pedrov_dog By then, two years into college, I'd not had much interest in boys. Experience demonstrated my male peers to be... let's say, inadequate and really quite easy to dislike. What's wrong with them? A fair question; how much time… Continue reading Tremor
The first instalment from a series of short form fiction; inspiration taken from collage by pedrov_dog Mother said there's no point learning to drive, but next day this man arrives saying he's my driving instructor. There're things about him I don't like. I don't like his clothes or his beard, how he talks to me… Continue reading But Next Day
My dearest Jemima Journal, I am sure you will understand.It's time to review that top drawer,Pull socks-and-pants from a dark hinterland. Resembling a bloated melange,Absent form, lacking pairing and folding,A call for a cull I broadcast,Cruel riddance applied, not withholding. They must go! They must go! Go they must!These relatively old worn-out saggy things.Slung in… Continue reading Socks-and-Pants