Author S. K. Nicholas

  Curled on the floor wearing just my dressing gown, I’m silent and without motion. Somewhere in the heavens above there exists enough planets to match the number of atoms in my body. Black stockings. Black lipstick. Near infinite fields of view with you reclining on a deck chair while nude and whispering my middle name. Ghostbusters… Read more

  Messy rooms. Umbilical cords. Flowers in a vase that symbolise a desire to make love against a tide that just won’t quit. Moths. Underwear. Books as portraits as kisses as fucking. Your favourite worst memory? Your first sexual experience? The first time you drank to block out the tedium of your ever-so-samey life? Identity.… Read more

  We wait in our room for the war to be over. We spoon beneath a hidden moon on a lake of frozen ice. From time to time it snows. From time to time we change our minds. Sometimes we’re lovers, enemies, strangers. Mostly a mixture of all three. When we fuck, she makes me… Read more

  Bare-footed in a field of corn. Crushed flowers beneath toes that taste of marzipan. It could be fantasy, or maybe yesterday. You in a dress with a waist that fits the shape of my hands. You with shaved legs so smooth it’s like kissing silk. Candles. Yasmine. Absinth. Let the water run down our… Read more

  Cold mornings of bus journeys and sandwiches bought from Sainsbury’s. I wanted chicken, but they only had cheese and onion. Don’t like cheese and onion. She bought us one each as I waited outside smoking a cigarette even though it was too cold and I was hungover. When she handed it to me, I… Read more

  You hide away your love despite painting yourself as a lover. You say you know what it feels like, but all you know is what it’s like to paint a picture that isn’t real. As you part the curtains and look out across the city, you remember how it used to be, and yet… Read more

  She drives. I sit and smoke. She tells me to put it out. Or else? Or else you don’t get none. Meh. Meh? Yeah, meh. I’m not in the loving mood, I say. So what mood are you in? She’s ready to come right back at me with some kinda put down but I’m tired of life… Read more

Those that live to impress others who couldn’t care less. The cycle that never ends. It’s a way of life so many suffer from because they think it gives them meaning- they think it makes them come alive in the eyes of those around them- but those eyes are long dead- as dead as the sky… Read more

  The old woman stands there looking at me as I light a smoke. It’s bitterly cold, and the ground is covered in a thin sheet of ice. She has one of those bags on wheels that pensioners always push their shopping around in, and she’s smartly dressed- smart enough to look out of place.… Read more