I love to write stories so I keep doing it, whether it brings me fame and fortune or not. (Spoiler alert: it doesn’t, but that's okay).
I have a blog, too.
“It’s not right.” Nan said. The homeless ‘pigeon lady’ was across the park, communing with her feathery kin. She had fished out a half eaten packet of salt and vinegar crisps from the rubbish bin, and was breaking up the pieces, then sprinkling them like fairy dust out to her frenzied flock.
Trauma Clean Part Two
“Have you ever seen a thing like this before in your life?” marvels Roy, as we stand and stare at the mummified bull, partially unwrapped, perhaps by the homicide investigators to ensure it wasn’t human remains. The papery, desiccated flesh on the bull’s face peeks out from resin-browned cloth.
Don't Lose Your Head
“How much does an average human head weigh?” What a thing to find myself Googling. All these years after the fact. At twelve years old I took the brown wrapped package from her without hesitation, and delivered it where she asked me to. For most of my life i didn’t even question it, not even curious about what it contained. Because it honestly never occurred to me that the box might have been kind of … head shaped.
“Green! Slam it!!” When it finally hit Ant that these would be last words he would ever hear his brother say, he creased into breathless sobs. Then he thought about what his brother would say if he saw him right now, and swallowed them all back in.