There is a cave. It is in a wood. One day a young boy went to the woods. He spotted a shiny penny in the undergrowth. He bent down, thrusting his hand eagerly into the leaves and twigs. It felt wet. It was wet. Wet from the urine...
Category - Creative Writing
Gary: It’s still moving, Jimmy. Jimmy: It’s not an it. Gary: Well, I don’t know its sex so I can’t say, ‘She’s still moving, she’s about to die’ Jimmy: You could just say what it is, ‘The crow is twitching...
Record shops are never busy; they are the domain of that rare oxymoronic creature, the cool-nerd. Each time the door opens in a record shop, it is an event; music escapes out into the world, a person gets sucked inside. On the...
The journey lasts twenty-nine and a half steps. I wake. I don’t know if it is night or day. My tongue feels out ulcers and layers of staleness in my parched papyrus mouth. It tastes of, or maybe just is, rotting flesh. I drag...
Since July, my good friend Elliott has been attentively rearing two chickens in his garden. He built them a coop, christened them Betty and Leia, fed them, and even read Animal Farm to prepare for all eventualities. He has waited...
TV Eye The wine glass slipped from her hand, bounced once on the carpet before rolling a couple of times on its base. Bending down, Linda took the thin stem between her fingers and stood up. It was eleven in the morning and she...
It’s been an interesting few weeks; big stretching weeks of dilemmas, minor disasters, and flirtations with decisiveness. My life seems to be at a crossroads: I am sat cross-legged inactive in the middle, letting the dust of a...
Nothing much is going on. It was raining when I left the house this morning; it made me both happy and sad. Happy because it actually came as a surprise that it was raining which in turn made me realise and recollect on how nice...
Trains operating in the South West are full of weirdoes. The trains that I get on from Bristol, in particular those that pass through Weston-Super-Mare, are densely populated with odd bods and eccentrics. Today, my girlfriend...
The toilets at work consist of five cubicles. There are no urinals; just five cubicles. These five cubicles are nearly always occupied with men shitting. The toilets inevitably smell like five types of shit brewed together. ...