Bote: German for Messenger. I woke early one morning, sprung out of sleep by something unknown. My bedroom was freezing cold, like a window had been left open all day and into the night, the cold winter air filling the room like smoke. But, the window was closed and had been all day. I blinked… Continue reading Writing on Wednesdays #11
E.HOURS 6:30 am Today I am exactly 29 and a half years old. Out the window of the Odyssey I can see the gas giant, its rings circling it like the inside of a tree trunk. The Odyssey floats like a cloud, breathing out cold gusts every so often, her windows are eyes, looking onto… Continue reading Writing on Wednesdays #10: When I visited My First Birthday.
INTERRUPTING USUAL BROADCASTING. PUBLIC SAFETY ANNOUNCEMENT. At approx 4:30 pm GMT strange atmospheric phenomena began to manifest in the skies above cities and towns all across the UK. It is now 5:30 pm and the purple, ultraviolet lights in the sky do not seem to be letting up. Mina Amari is in London where she… Continue reading Writing on Wednesdays #5
Choices are a part of our lives every day.We cross the road, we decide to follow one path instead of another. Consequently our world forms and is built around that choice. Our reality moulds around it. Choices have the ability to create worlds. Right now there are people who have had their choices taken away… Continue reading On The UK General Election a Week Today.
*WARNING: this short story has some sensitive content that may trigger/upset some readers* When June was 7 she decided to run away. The month was June and she knew it was time, because June was her name and June was the month. On the first of June, she collected her most important items in a… Continue reading Writing on Wednesdays #3
From the one you throw stones at when I sit on your garden wall. Hi from the street. This is my kingdom. The trash laden back alleys, full of forgotten toys, thrown away by children who got something better last year for Christmas. Once I might have had a home, a vague memory of somewhere,… Continue reading Writing on Wednesdays #2
How wondrous we are. Lightning flashes on a dark night. Searching for other souls, like electricity searches for the ground. How incandescent, luminous, phosphorescent and florid. Burning too hot and bright for too shorter time. A raging fire, of life, life, life. Sending sparks up into the sky, the remains of us, planting themselves to… Continue reading Writing on Wednesdays #1
"He isn't worthy of your efforts." I say to him over my hand as we're sat on the bench we always sit on, ready to choose, ready to pick one. "Maybe not, but I want him." Aidan spits, the words spraying out from behind his teeth like acid. "You should go for someone more, eligible.… Continue reading Pushing.
The wind blows loudly at the window, but outside the trees are still. “How long do we have?” She asks the man, all in black, sat in the corner. “You know I can’t tell you that.” He replies. The sky grows darker, the wind still blowing. “This can’t be it.” She says. “But it is.”
Dead poets live longer than you.