Tag Archives: writing

He wakes without a gasp, without a start, and the silence of it belies the horror that lives behind his eyes. Shadows and broken things, sharp edges seeking to carve out the inner supports of him, hollowing him out, waiting … Continue reading →

The day begins with the heart beating, leftover, on the table. It sits there, still beating, still bleeding, and she’s still weeping, pleading even, but the man with the knives never looks at her. He never looks at anything but … Continue reading →

Everything was perfect until the fairies showed up. Everything went along and made sense. Everything had its good points and its bad points. School was long, but I got to make spitballs, and dip Penny’s braids into the inkwell in … Continue reading →

The day he was Judged, Arnold Lorry was in the middle of telling off a bum. Any other morning, he normally would have handed over all the change in his pockets, up to and including pound notes. He had a … Continue reading →

They move in the dark, not at all silent, great thundering footsteps clashing against the ground, clumsy beasts with their reflective eyes and hissing calls. They scream at the moon and bait one another, tails twitching, claws catching on every … Continue reading →