Author S. K. Nicholas

Frogs boil on the sidewalk, and as I pass them by, their melting eyes blink at mine accusingly as if I’m somehow to blame for their demise. The smell of bubbling flesh making me wretch, I hum a song to take my mind off it while looking at a wall of TVs in an electrical shop front. Some Welsh woman is smiling, and although I can’t hear her voice, just the thought of it makes me hard. Her teeth are white like a dove, and as she looks adoringly at the guy she’s interviewing, I imagine what it would feel like to look up at that smile from between her legs. The waters of her womb calling to me through the electrical wasteland that separates us, the tips of my fingers tingle as someone behind me trips over an uneven paving slab and falls into the road. Quietly moving off before I’m expected to help them up, I picture my Welsh lover walking on all fours like a tarantula reminiscent of the girl in Exorcist. Naked and hungry for my love, she crawls across the surface of exoplanets and swims the icy oceans of the moons of Jupiter. Desperate to taste my lust, nothing stops her from traveling through the layers of space and time and the tricky filters of my mind that do their best to place as many obstacles before my happiness as possible. Someone tells me Prince is dead. So is Chyna, the wrestler and porno woman. Famous people are dropping like flies this year, not that I care. Some girl looks at me with cute eyes and flaming red hair. So vulnerable she appears, but I just turn the other way. Bloc Party playing from a passing car, I’m reminded of exciting times in winter spending too much money on Sophie after picking up my first paycheck. Noir jackets from exclusive clothes stores for £200 and hardcover art books about explicit sex signed with love and hate and a smiley face. Sushi after sushi with trips to noodle bars and drawings drawn in an attempt to lure her into my bed. It used to be how I went about things, but I don’t care much for drawing now. Don’t even care for love. Too many battles have left me seeking something else to place upon a pedestal. But who am I trying to fool, I’m just waiting for a spark that will ignite me like so many times before.