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Thinking of that teacher, and those dreamy lumps of flesh she possessed, Gretchen licks the canvas as if it were a sweet treat. With her mouth breathing heavily upon its surface, she imagines what it would be like to suckle the nipples on the jelly-like breasts she gazed at from the back of the classroom Read more
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The teacher she pictures had blonde hair and a slender neck that invited a young Gretchen’s curious gaze. It was a neck she wished to kiss. Not sexually, but playfully, although truthfully, there was certainly something more to it than met her infant eye. She enjoyed kisses on the neck herself at that age. Her Read more
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As she places her hands upon the pale, white surface, it speaks to her of a multitude of near-invisible things. Invisible, but not unknown. At least not to her. From the shop in town where she steals to the park where she feeds the ducks on her lunch break, each step she takes leaves a Read more
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Tilting her head so that the curls of her hair tumble to the dusty ground, inch by inch, she silently surveys the canvas with a look of devilry in her eyes. Positioning herself on all fours with a grunt and a groan, she crawls towards it like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspecting Read more
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With their ears pricked, the other students wait for a commotion, but Gretchen is content to bide her time. The brandy has warmed her belly nicely, and as it works its alcoholic magic, it won’t be long until she sets it aside and opens a can of beer. The beer won’t keep her warm, but Read more
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Kicking off her shoes, she removes her holey socks using her big toes and sighs a sigh of relief the same as she did when she whipped off her bra. Hanging on the wall before her is a blank canvas. Stapled into place, it stretches from one side of her studio space to the other. Read more
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Unscrewing the bottle of brandy as she sits slumped against the wall, she sniffs and gags and sniffs again as the foul-smelling spirit worms its way into her brain. The smell reminds her of old man’s aftershave, and creepy uncles with wandering hands and the packets of Fisherman’s Friend her father would keep in the Read more
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Going back to those paint cans. Some have labels, while others are blank. Some contain coffee she can’t be bothered pouring down the sink in the communal kitchen, and others are full to the brim with piss because, likewise, she can’t be arsed to walk to the toilets. When she drinks her alcohol, she needs Read more
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Shifting between a strange art student and a demonic, life-size spider, she now resembles a blathering and belligerent Tasmanian Devil. Kinda like the one from the cartoons she once watched as a child around her grandparents’ house after school with a plate full of food on her lap and a glass of lemonade by her Read more
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Snapping her mouth like a turtle, she bites the ankles of a lone student leaning against a photocopier. The kid is one she’s never spoken with. He seems pleasant enough, but so are his paintings, so she gives him a nip for good measure. Tossing a handful of paper into the air as she sinks Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 