My writing mostly falls is of the absurd, strange, horror of the mind. I enjoy micro-fiction and playing with formating.
Debut Novel out now! The Knights of Avalon
Book II in progress.
Enjoy my odd work!
The Power of Names
I have changed the past through altering the future ... an act many thought impossible. History may not remember my name, and people may only remember one of my names. My name is not actually that important. Certainly not to me, anyway. Well, not until recently.
Twisted Tales for Toilet Time: Volume II, Part VIII
Eight PM Once Upon a Hour of Time… I was born at exactly 8PM on the 8th August, 2008. So naturally my nickname at school was “Susan”. Well at least that’s what the bullies called me. When I went to University I managed to get the name “Crazy 8” working for me. Funny that I was the eighth child of my family, first born male after seven girls.
Twisted Tales for Toilet Time: Volume II, Part VII
Four PM Once Upon a Hour of Time… Pain seared through my hand. It burned so bad, it felt as hot as the sun at 4pm at the height of summer. While it wasn’t summer, it was 4pm. I had started cooking dinner, possibly too late. After chopping all the vegetables for the ‘Trinity’. That is, onion, celery, bell peppers, and garlic for the Pope. I attempted the slow process of making the dark roux required for gumbo, carefully following the instructions of the online video.
Twisted Tales for Toilet Time: Volume II, Part VI
Midday Once Upon a Hour of Time… The two hands of the clock pointed straight up, indicating to any watching that it was now, in fact, 12pm. Or Midday as it is sometimes known to those who get confused about whether it is AM or PM when it is exactly 12. Regardless, the fact that it was daylight should further indicate and remove speculation as to the time of day. It is 12 Noon.
Twisted Tales for Toilet Time: Volume II, Part V
Eight AM Once Upon an Hour of Time… An elderly gentleman named Archibald awoke at 8am, as he did every morning. He put on his best suit, turned the kettle on, and placed a tea bag in his favourite mug. When the water boiled, he poured it into the mug. Then went to finish getting ready while it brewed. He placed two slices of bread in the toaster. One white, one brown. He layed out a plate, cutlery, and the spreads he favoured. Poured milk into the mug of tea, took the toast and tea to the table and sat.
The History of Pizza
If walls could talk… Would we say what others want us to, what they write on us, or would we speak our own story? The origin of the word ‘pizza’ first appeared in 997 in Medieval Latin. It was in Naples, Italy in the 16th century that a flatbread was referred to as a pizza. Pizza was then only a baker’s tool, simply a dough used to verify the temperature of the oven. The Pizza as we know it today was born in June 1889, to honour the Queen Margherita of Savoy. On her behalf a Neapolitan chef named Raffaele Esposito created the first ‘Pizza Margherita’, a pizza garnished with fresh tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, olive oil and basil, to represent the colours of the Italian flag.
Escape from the Cooinda Cycle: Part Three
I was surprised when I looked at my watch, and rekindled with energy to make it through the last time here, I quickly left the area and used the staff code to exit the back door towards the bins. I enjoyed the small amount of time in relative calm while doing the bins and did not rush back, but slowly made my way back down to The Gypsy’s room.
Escape from the Cooinda Cycle: Part One
“I've been looking for freedom, Since I left my home town, I've been looking for freedom,” I was singing along as loud as I could clapping where I could without losing control of the vehicle. As the song came to its crescendo, I belted out the final line in time with The Hoff.