Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

  • Beyond

    Sepia light. A rickety garden gate that divides said light like a cobweb. The pathway beyond leads to a biscuit tin adorned with the image of flowing milk. It flows from her left breast to my open mouth. Mountain texture. Many colours. Mostly purples, but some leafy green. Ocean Park. To Venice. To Rome. Alone Read more

  • Tap Tap Tap!

    Dancing in circles with a life of their own, around and around the dead leaves go. The rustling sounds they make are like thousands of tiny feet. They make me think of tiny mice, scuttling over the wooden floor of my childhood kitchen. Tap tap tap! Rat-a-tat-tat! Over and over again, those tiny feet go. Read more

  • New Ways of Seeing

    “It better be worth it,” I say. “It will be,” she replies. “You can see so much from up here, and we’re not even halfway. We’ll be able to see a lot more the higher we go.” “Higher?” “Oh, don’t be such a wuss.” “That’s alright for you to say. You know I don’t like Read more

  • Mainly When I’m Drunk

    Leaping to my feet, I reach out my hands and give her my best pleading eyes. Stradling the branch she sits upon, she rests her belly on the bark and lowers her arms enough for me to grab onto. Hoisting me up, she snarls and groans as I grasp for her like a fish out Read more

  • Whites of Her Eyes

    The blood is watery, not like blood at all. More like cherryade. Reminds me of the stuff I used to drink as a kid during those endless summer holidays where time and life had no place next to dreams and imagination. If I’m lucky, I squint and see those days quite clearly, but I’m not Read more

  • Pusher

    Long locks of auburn curls dance by the side of a harbour. Could be autumn, but most likely it’s winter. There are mouths with spirals of wispy mist escaping them, and steam slipping off the skin of those drinking hot cups of coffee staring into the choppy waters beneath their feet. There’s a pusher, who Read more

  • Another Glimpse

    As she giggles at me as the chimes of a faraway clock tickle my sunburnt ears, I pull the dead leaves from my hair before attempting to climb the tree. Fingers digging into the crumbling bark, I try scuttling up like Hachikō had done moments earlier, but immediately fall onto my back like a beetle. Read more

  • Alone I Roamed

    Although she’s always resembled a girl more than she has a woman, as she sits upon the long, beckoning branch alongside Hachikō, I see her not as my lover, but as the child I once wished was my sister. Life as an only child never bothered me much, but there were times when I would Read more

  • Warm Like Chicken

    “What are you doing?” she asks, “stop messing about and help me get him down.” Still grasping the trunk of the tree, I open my eyes to find Meeko frowning at me. “I’m just going to sit for a bit,” I say. “Are you serious?” Not having the energy to tell her of my revelation, Read more

  • The Waters of Her Womb

    Ignoring her words, I close my eyes as saliva drips from Hachikō’s grinning mouth. Falling through the dusty air along with the corpses of what were once beautiful green leaves, the drops of doggy spit land upon my head of hair like tears from clouds about to burst open in a storm—gutted by the knife-wielding Read more