There’s never one point where something ‘clicks’. Some like to believe there is, that hobbies or skills reach a well-defined turning point, an ON-OFF switch. It’s never that simple. Even the most abrupt of changes occur over time, not in discrete, quantum moments. That’s why the worst changes are still […]
Sea of the Fractured Circuit Read More »
Another abandoned homestead passed by in the dead of night, the rotten buildings illuminated only by the lights of Gareth’s beat-up Saturn. He counted it in his head as he continued down the endless, winding road through the rolling hills of the Dakotas. Along the way he passed the sign
Town of the Tall Man Read More »
Indirectly watching two older ladies scurry across the empty street as wispy, powdery rain filled the air, Damien Jones sat on a bench, unsure of what life would be like for him now and how much would he really want to experience it anyway. The ladies, sensing his gaze stopped
When The Siren Came Read More »
Those of a certain age who grew up in the UK will remember the old-style, red phone boxes, emblazoned with the Royal Crown and with the motif ‘Telephone’ written above their glass panelled swing doors. In fact, you’ve probably seen photographs of these booths which are regarded as quintessentially British,
People don’t die cleanly. It’s messy, miserable work. Everyone fights back, regardless of age or gender. It’s an animalistic instinct driven by the bolts of adrenaline rushing through their brain. Fight. Resist. Run. Escape LIVE. Those were the thoughts whirling behind the bearded man’s eyes as my knife slid into
Sophia and her family – her mother Lila and her father Johnathan, lived in a little village where the grass carried dew in the mornings and the evenings were bright with the stars and the moon carrying faint rays of light over the fields. She had been nine years old
Dad said a man was coming from the city to photograph us tomorrow. I never had a photograph taken of me before. My parents had one taken with James when he was a baby. Eliza and I weren’t born yet. The picture sits over our mantle, embroidered in a gold
The Awful Thing We Did to Eliza Read More »
