Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

  • Seed

      It was six years ago today that Sarah and I found out we were going to lose Bethany. Seems like someone else’s life when now reflecting on that period. I wasn’t thirty-two for a start, but a mere twenty-six. Sarah was younger. The world was younger. Life has a habit of going on, and yet… Read more

  • Through the Lens of a Camera

      Like a fox rummaging through trash in search of food, or a woman in full bloom being sniffed out by every leper within a ten-mile radius. In due course, we transform again and again until the time comes to leave it all behind. Shapeless and without form, we dance in an unlit car park… Read more

  • Enola

    Sunflowers and Poltergeists. Bad writing and kisses beneath bedsheets soaked with lighter fluid. The minute we spark our cigarettes, we go up in flames like the victims of a car bombing someplace in Nigeria. I’ve seen the pictures; flesh melted to the bone + bodies stiff with teeth jutting out of dead gums with entrails… Read more

  • Swimming Pool Death 

    I’m stood near a swimming pool. There’s a party going on with people I don’t like. Loads of coked up fucks imagining themselves as vaguely interesting while parading their partially naked bodies around as if nudity were somehow a new and interesting invention. I’m smoking a cigarette and drinking bourbon even though it plays havoc… Read more

  • The Scavenger

      And there were those days when not much happened; when there were no words nor expression, only sitting around waiting for something to show itself while open-mouthed and chasing shadows. Sometimes howling, and at others silent as I drowned the nights in alcohol. Pushing her head beneath the soapy water that filled the bath,… Read more

  • Harvest Moon

      The month is now September, and the chill wind that blows against my face is letting me know that fall is on its way. Slowly it approaches. Inevitably it crawls. The streets are empty and echo with the chatter of distant magpies as someone plays the guitar behind closed doors. Sounds Spanish somehow. I’m… Read more

  • Faust 

      In a room without a window, a circle of candles surrounds two lovers on a bed. Naked, nude, and glued together at the hips, she suffers from a chronic case of adultery, while he’s a bad writer with a taste for the bottle. Every night is like the worst night of my life- yeah,… Read more

  • Search

      If I were to fall in love, please, bash in my brains and hack off my balls. If you were to find me smitten and talking of tenderness, rub detergent into my eyes and force-feed me bleach while slicing off my lips with a shard of broken glass. Did anyone ever break the ice… Read more

  • The History of Wind

      The sight of nature in all of its glory as the train moves through the woods gives me butterflies. Closing my eyes, all of its myriad scents makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The trees know it, and so do all the animals that dance outside in the… Read more

  • Depression Cherry

      As we observe the lights of town from far away, the world is contained within my beating chest, and as she rests her head against my open palms, she tells me how dearly she would like to become a star. Above us in the umber sky, there are black holes and nameless dead gods,… Read more