Sacrifice.

Martha turned the wine glass on the table then stood back and frowned. She then leant back and turned it back to its original position before smiling and stepping to the next place setting. The sound of her shoes against the floorboards echoed through the room. The house was quiet, empty and waiting. After checking… Continue reading Sacrifice.

Peter/Susan

Into the mirror of his mother’s downstairs bathroom Peter stared. Susan stared right back. Peter on one side of aluminium, glass and paint, and Susan reflected perfectly back on the other. They stared, at the pimple pulsing in the centre of Peter’s forehead. Peter raised two hands, shaking as he placed a finger on either side… Continue reading Peter/Susan

Na(I)ls

My fingernails won't stop growing won't stop growing my fingernails won't stop growing forward and backward inside my skin. They won't stop. My fingernails they're under my skin down through my elbows and into my chest my fingernails wrap around my ribs dying vines pushing through my lungs stop growing I don't know how to… Continue reading Na(I)ls

Hard Rubbish

Next to a broken set of drawers is a couch with the seat pillows missing and on top of the couch is a mattress and between the mattress and the couch is a dead body. I’m pretty sure it’s dead. The arm dangling down the side of the couch is bloodied and one of the… Continue reading Hard Rubbish

Anything You Want, You Can Have.

I check the cable ties again and frown. He’s sweating and keeps moving about so much I’m worried he’ll get loose. I’ve always trusted rope more than these stupid bits of plastic but the company won’t fork out for anything these days. ‘Superfluous and unreliable’. Idiots. I use a second tie around both his wrists… Continue reading Anything You Want, You Can Have.

The Fifes Go On Holiday

“Kids, your mother and I have something we need to tell you.” Peter paused. He relished the tension reflected in the eyes of his three children and forced himself not to grin as he took a deliberate sip of tea. Susan, his wife, sighed and squeezed his shoulder. “Come on Peter, you’re being cruel.” “Yeah… Continue reading The Fifes Go On Holiday