So, I headed out into the frosty morning to kill Aleksander. A.D. was still sleeping and it felt awkward edging out of her arms but I have work to do. Read More
My name is Oliver S. Kennedy and I killed my first person when I was twelve years old. What? It’s 20XX and I’m just that honest. Read More
The digital clock blinked into 12:43am as James heard his father’s heavy footsteps enter the bedroom adjacent to his. His parents hadn’t slept in the same room for months now and he never questioned why; maybe it was the ‘man smell’ and those novels with the horrifying covers? Stephen King, John Saul and their ilk scared him before he even turned his first page.
James awoke with a start and, even with the throbbing in his temples, he reached over to his record collection and pulled out Scorching Beauty by Iron Butterfly. Read More
The sun splashed over James who woke spread-eagled on his bed. He winced at the light and wondered how a sky so pale and cloudy could make him feel so defeated before catching a glimpse of the empty whisky bottle. A painful ache played around the corners of his forehead which he was certain would encompass his entire cranium in a torturous agony. He wondered if more sleep would abate the problem before remembering his father. If he smelled the whisky on him, he’d have a field day with it so James decided to cut the knot. Read More
It was when the train slowed in Newbury that James realized he had missed his stop. He would find out sometime later that Old Regis was a request stop which by then was redundant news; the fact of the matter was it added twenty minutes to his journey. Read More
A blank, empty ceiling greeted Oliver as it had done every day since he first awoke in Apartment 23b. Read More
Josh had been waiting almost twenty minutes when Ravenna finally entered, kissed him and sat next to him. The ice cubes in her cocktail had already melted but she sipped the diluted concoction of raspberry vodka and candy hearts all the same. Josh nonetheless smiled, the corners of his mouth pressed into his cheeks to give an almost forced look of joy of seeing his girlfriend. Read More
The bed was a pitiful mess of blankets atop a mattress that covered more ground than the carpet. A petite woman of perhaps five foot entered, her arms wrapped around a cardboard box. Its contents spilled as she placed it down; a couple of comic books and a stuffed toy found a new home on the beige overspread. Cursing herself, she tucked her blue hair behind her ears before scooping up the items and dropping them back in the box. Read More
A frantic typing filled up a bedroom already suffocating from various sheets of parchment strewn from the desk to the floor. Felix, a fourteen-year-old caught between happiness and intelligence, tentatively clacked away on his typewriter. Pages filled with words but he was unsure if he was even writing anything. He periodically looked around his room as though he were looking for something. His eyes drifted to his large bookcase of stories he’d never read. Disheartened, he stole a glance at his pug who gave up the pretence of sleep and grunted for his master’s attention.