Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Love

  • Husk

    I sleep on the floor, like so many times before. In search of an escape, I break apart so I may squeeze what’s left of me through the slithers of light that isn’t light at all but the memories of what once was. I am a streetlight. I am a coffin. Talking of memories, the Read more

  • Softer Than Usual

    Heading inside the store, I stand beneath the air conditioning unit situated just above the entrance. Holding my arms out either side of me, I groan as if in the throes of climax, such is the pleasure of the cold air blowing onto my puny, white body. I’m not as puny as I used to Read more

  • Now and Again

    We pay for our stuff and leave the store holding hands. It’s cold so cold, and as she tries pulling me back into the warmth of indoors, I squeeze her tight and tell her to endure. With a grumble, she digs her mouth into the collar of her coat while with a blink of my Read more

  • The Music Within

    Fingers linked, I lead her through the underpass that takes us to Sainsbury’s. She’s got her mouth buried in the collar of her jacket, and every time she says something, I can’t make out the words, so I turn and ask her to repeat herself. She doesn’t though. I’d say she’s doing it on purpose, Read more

  • Two Worlds

      October sun on your face and rust-coloured paint on your fingernails as the city swallows itself along with all those that were once so happy to call it their home. A kiss on the cheek and one or two pinky fingers on the back of your skull as you eat your sandwich thinking about Read more

  • She and Her

      When she opens her legs, I see not only flesh and birth but prisms and sepulchres and the eyes of spiders and the eyes of God. Her legs are smooth and her sex shaven. On my belly with outstretched arms, I look inside of her and see the south coast of England, a pier with Read more

  • I Can’t Escape From You

      The frame that captures your face. The mirrors that reflect the beauty of what you are. All those lonely roads, seeping from the corners of your eyes, drowned in time and lost adolescence. Relics of memories. Like particles of dust, drifting without words. Immersed in daydreams, I’m too tired to be coherent. To drift Read more

  • Seasons Spent Alone

      Those ex-lovers, how they dance in the darkness down every lonely street we ever walked. Those tight bodies, how they shower in cold sunlight with a complete lack of something I can never put my finger on. She once told me how she pondered taking her life in the early hours at the foot Read more

  • Love

      It’ll take us in the end, and no amount of pretending will ever change it. We lose ourselves in fleeting moments, in distractions, and yet permanence is all we will ever know. In a thousand years, all traces of our existence will have turned to dust. All our passions and desires, gone. Every memory Read more

  • Not Machines

      3 am. Bodies in flight. Stomach ulcers and the look on your face without make-up. Lifting up your shirt I slide off your bra as if it were made of leaves. There are certain things a man needs to do, even if he has no idea why he does them. Chemicals to bring us Read more