Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

  • Shit Paintings

    Those lonely roads are lonely indeed. They’re cold, winding, and as long as a piece of string sailing down a stream unseen. There’s such a stream that flows through the veins of this town, mainly underground, but sometimes over, too. It’s home to all kinds of rubbish that spends its time floating around without so Read more

  • Lonely Roads

    With her cheek against the ground, she sees clumps of hair and lumps of dust among drips of freshly splattered paint. The floor could almost be a work of art in itself. It’s certainly better than the work those on her course are capable of shitting out. Not that she wants to be a cunt Read more

  • Collapsing Like a Flower

    The lift doesn’t fall. The mirrors don’t shatter. When the door slides open, she stares at her shifting reflection one last time before stepping onto the worn carpet at her feet. In places, the carpet is stained with paint. There’s also the occasional cigarette burn. You’re not supposed to smoke in the building, nor are Read more

  • Sliding Doors

    Pushing the door with an outstretched hand, a glowy warm light washes over her body, painting her pale cheeks with a smidge of pink. Blowing onto her aching fingers that are cracked, sore and ready to bleed, the mist follows her in and tries to pull her back onto the street, but with a swift Read more

  • Curtains Caught in a Storm

    Thinking about those old porno magazines, one in particular stands out. Not the name of it, or where she found it, but a certain woman within its pages that snatched away her breath and lit a fire between her prepubescent legs. The woman posed by the side of a swimming pool. Her hips wide, and Read more

  • Tickle in Her Tummy

    Lost to the world, the blast of a horn brings her back to the here and now. Thinking once more of the Elephant Man as she wipes her nose on the sleeve of her coat, she imagines him again hurrying through the backstreets of London, endlessly pursued by those hellbent on giving him a good Read more

  • Flesh is Mostly Useless

    His touch is shy, but the more it lingers, the more she sees how for the first time in his life, it makes him feel good to be alive and less shameful to exist within his curious skin. His lips are wet, and the kiss is clumsy, but then again, so is hers. The belt Read more

  • Nature’s Favourite Flavour

    Sticking her tongue deep between the precious bricks, she finds herself chewing a mouthful of grit. The grit is coarse upon her tongue, but the more of it she swallows, so the magic of the moment intensifies. Sucking on decades-old concrete, the mysteries contained within the art studios seep through the walls before dripping down Read more

  • Many Have, Many Will

    Hurrying along in her clumsy manner, she shakes her head free of ridiculous thoughts as the raised voices of the market traders ring out behind her. The voices of the nearby drunks claw at her shoulders, but the quicker she moves, the less she feels them until they dissolve into the mist along with everything Read more

  • Sad Welsh Chapel

    Taking another draw on her smoke, she flicks it into the mist. Gobbled up the second it leaves her fingers, pigeons coo about her feet looking for food but she’s got nothing to give them. Apologising most sincerely, she squints at the row of stores on either side of her that trail into the distance. Read more