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Sticking her tongue deep between the precious bricks, she finds herself chewing a mouthful of grit. The grit is coarse upon her tongue, but the more of it she swallows, so the magic of the moment intensifies. Sucking on decades-old concrete, the mysteries contained within the art studios seep through the walls before dripping down Read more
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Hurrying along in her clumsy manner, she shakes her head free of ridiculous thoughts as the raised voices of the market traders ring out behind her. The voices of the nearby drunks claw at her shoulders, but the quicker she moves, the less she feels them until they dissolve into the mist along with everything Read more
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Originally posted on Gregoria Green: Smell of home-baked bread and red wine, Who will be here, watch my hair turn grey? No moment like the next one In my kitchenette of tears. Who will breath into my bosom While I lullaby them to a sweetest sleep? A little one heralding noble beginnings Why are lilacs… Read more
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It begins slowly. Just an ethereal sound like the quiet hum of raw piety, a low breeze passing through a celestial organ of silver pipes pointing towards God. The throb… you feel it in that little hollow under your throat. It grows inside you, a benevolent warm cancer swelling around your chest, prickling your skin. Read more
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As a child, my defining moment was seeing Morrissey swinging a bunch of wilted flowers around on TV; a modern god on Top of the Pops with a quiff too magnificent to resist. Nothing’s ever touched this thrill. It’s been downhill ever since. In the reflections of a rippling puddle down the street after work, Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 