Author S. K. Nicholas

  We link fingers and make love. Or is it fucking? I think this constitutes as fucking. You take it in the mouth and only when I allow it do you swallow. To think of those futures you hold, and then with one lick of the lips, it’s just another dead end. Struggling to breathe… Read more

  While sat in the passenger seat, she inspects herself in a small mirror she carries in her purse. Looking not outward but inward, behind my closed eyes I see cheerleaders dancing just for me. They wink suggestively while gyrating their hips causing me to dribble from the sides of my mouth. There’s dried blood… Read more

  There was a terrorist attack in London yesterday. Some dumb fuck ran down a load of people on Westminster Bridge and then stabbed a policeman to death. They shot the guy soon after- I saw the photo of him lying on the pavement with pistols pointing at his prone body. I’m a bit young… Read more

  When I’m drunk, I insert things into her body. Marbles. Coins. Sunflower seeds. Stuff like that. As she’s lying there laughing at the absurdity of it all, I speak in hushed tones to her vagina. Questions, so many questions. She is my alter, she’s monolithic. When she asks what I’m doing I feed her… Read more

  The water looks like oil. When I’m drunk, I ignite the oil. She’s got nice breasts, don’t you think? They appear so smooth and smell like Play-Doh. This oil, though, it gets on my clothes. It chokes me when I’m trying to sleep. Reminds me of the paints I used to use back when… Read more

  Remember that time I had an existential crisis in WHSmith? Stood in the queue with a notepad and some magazines under my arm, I was checking to see whether or not to pay with cash or card when the realisation of my situation hit me. The dinosaurs- they had been dead for millions of… Read more

  I’ve known others but never myself. I’ve seen the whites of their eyes belly to belly at 3 am after a night of drinking but my reflection never registers no many how many times I’ve gazed in the mirror. Not that it matters. None of us are who we think we are. Sometimes I… Read more

  Drunk and fidgety, we climb into the flat above the chemists. It’s not Canada, and I’ve never been, but it feels like Vancouver somehow. When we slide open the window, I check the rooms and they’re all empty. I used to live here many years ago. My room was on the landing. No door,… Read more

  There’s blood on the bedsheets, it’s hers, not mine. There’s smoke in the air or it could be fog rolling in off the sea not sure don’t care. She morphs she comes. When I shoot she shivers and goes limp so I carry her to the bath and wash her until she smiles and… Read more