Seeing Daylight
He walks me through the doorway to a brightly lit room with a white tiled floor. I am made to sit in what feels like a leather chair – old, …
He walks me through the doorway to a brightly lit room with a white tiled floor. I am made to sit in what feels like a leather chair – old, …
If you look past your face’s reflection in the train window, it’s only a glimpse but takes a lifetime to see the dry, hoof-beaten straw for grass, and how it …
Facebook prompts memories of ‘this time last year’ or ‘this time five years ago’ and sometimes you get a sense of ‘shit, I forgot about that whole thing’ or ‘shit, …
Too impatient for the lift, he takes the stairs, the tail of his coat nips his heals as he swings his body around each corner railing between floors. In his …
Guest Post By El Steppenwolf A soft death, the rattle heard in every whispered breath. The flickering television light bleaches all colour. It plays about the tired face, flushed red …
The clock strikes eleven times. The ghost of Jimmy Fowler parades down the mansion’s spiral stairs past the grandfather clock to the ballroom and seats himself at the piano. And …
I saw him come in. She was snorin’. Left the telly on. He got that paper there with them numbers and when the balls come up on the telly he …
Single. Female. Dining.
Books from beyond the beaten track
Writing fiction