Author S. K. Nicholas

  Down a street in some city of which I’ve long since forgotten, the roads are wet and cigarette smoke escapes the mouths of those I share out my sentence with. They tell me to get a better job, and that if I do, I’ll be happy. When my response is that I don’t want… Read more

  Walking down the sidewalk, I come to a halt and close my eyes. Enveloped by a kiss, the urge to cling to a tree and sink my teeth into its bark is almost overwhelming. Raising my arms, I sway for several second before falling backwards. No one comes to save me, but it’s okay,… Read more

  Walking back from work, a dog runs into the road and dives beneath a parked car. Then another, he too darting through traffic as if wishing for the end. The frantic owner approaches me a few minutes later. Yelling at someone on her phone, she asks if I’ve seen her two dogs. I tell… Read more

    You put the bullet in the chamber like coffee in the pot. All those days spreading like cancer around swollen tongues. Shaken baby syndrome and nicotine stained fingers playing a tiny violin on cute little wrists. Blood on the dirty asphalt and tyre tracks leading to an overturned car on the side of… Read more

  Lying in bed thinking about past relationships, I squirm at the mistakes that were made. There are so many it’s almost impossible to remember each one. And where am I now? Still in my dead-end job with dreams of making it as a writer. Looking through the blinds at the stars wondering what will… Read more

  She’s an eraser with a thing for black stockings and not shaving. I say I don’t like it, but she doesn’t care. Smoking my cigarettes as she drive’s us into the night, within the hour I’m deep inside of her. She wears her mother’s curse and has her father’s eyes. I try not to… Read more

  It’s not that I don’t care, or that I think I’m better somehow. It’s more to do with knowing when to walk away. People come and go. Some touch you, while others are mere wallpaper. It’s the ebb and flow of life. There’s a few that get beneath the skin, but mostly everyone you… Read more

  A yawning fox sleeps at my feet. Curled in a circle, it twitches while subdued by its animal dreams. There are no women; they dissolved out of sight like salt in a bowl of warm water. Clutching my pens, they tell me I’m mad, but I don’t believe them. They want me to become… Read more

  Checking for lumps, my fingers itch for the end, but the end doesn’t come. At least not today. Beads of water trickling down my body, I attempt self-abuse but it’s too hot. Losing my footing and slipping out of exhaustion, I pull the shower curtain down and fall to the floor like the woman in… Read more

  Armed with pens to draw bodies I haven’t seen in years, the effect is different to writing, and yet the results stay the same. I once took a photo of her as she slept, and every night for a month I tried capturing the innocence she exuded so effortlessly. Such delicate features she has,… Read more