Author S. K. Nicholas

  There’s toast and eggs and a few cigarettes and painkillers to ease the aching of my bones, and out of one eye I see you, and out of the other, a wall splashed with grease and other such muck. There’s a spider on the ceiling, and in the dining room, a bird in a cage… Read more

  Bibles. Secretion. Lovers in flames and lovers in denial. A kiss. Kisses. Beer and cigarettes and wine and those streets that dissolve only to come back together again when you’re sleeping. And when you sleep, where do you go? When your defences are down and the universe speaks to you in the language of… Read more

  On the surface of a faraway planet the likes of which none but us will ever glimpse, I make her lie down on her belly on a bed of sand. She rests her chin on the back of her hands, and as I part her legs and spread her sex, her eyes dilate and… Read more

  You get these four-year-old prodigies that can play the piano, and I just look at them and think, you little cunts. Here I am grinding through the days trying to become a better writer, and they just sit there acting like Beethoven as if it were no big deal. They’re almost as bad as… Read more

  In dreams, I’m the man that invented the Ferris wheel. In a bubble of music and laughter on a frozen lake, she’s throwing darts at a line of balloons pinned to a wooden board, and each time one of them pops, she looks over at me so excitedly while biting her lower lip. There are fireworks… Read more

  Draw the curtains and turn out the troublesome light. Smoke a cigarette and crumble and then bloom and crumble and bloom some more. Smile at nothing and then break down with each and every laboured breath while unbuttoning your shirt and touching your breasts even though you’re miles from being in the mood. Sometimes… Read more