Art
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Her fingers tingle intermittently as she points the brush at each of the four corners of the canvas. As she does so, paint drips from its bristles, splashing her toes so it appears she’s coloured each of her nails a different shade of blue. The feeling of it as it slides over her flesh reminds… Read more
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The void was death, and the void was in her head. It was also between her legs. It was most things; it was all things. There was something blood-curdling about the void, and yet, stood before the canvas on the verge of bringing it to life, she knows the void is what she desires more… Read more
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Increasing her grip on the brush, she wipes her eyes with her left hand. The more she seeks out the image, the harder it is to keep control, and yet she knows that to relinquish control is the only way she can bring the image to fruition. She hates opening up this way, because every… Read more
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Taking a step forward, she keeps the brush pointed firmly at the canvas with her right hand, while with her left, she brings the can of beer to her lips and drains it. When the last of the sweet nectar disappears, she crushes the can and tosses it to the floor. The music makes her… Read more
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The song that plays is Speed Trials. The first track on his album Either/Or. She doesn’t know the album will play in its entirety, and yet somehow, she does. The hushed vocals and delicate guitar have an immediate effect on her, the same as they always do. It’s one of her favourite albums, and she plays it… Read more
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Grabbing a broken paintbrush, she swipes it through the air as if in the midst of a drunken duel. After a few moments though, something doesn’t feel right, so she discards the brush and picks up another. This one has more weight to it, but it doesn’t have the length, so she chucks it to… Read more
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The postman’s nose even resembled a beak, and, if she remembers correctly, his teeth, all stained and crocked, were as big as giant paving slabs. That morning, on her doorstep, she crossed her arms over her breasts to prevent his bulging eyes seeing anything more. It was the first time she had ever done such… Read more
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The river shimmers in her mind. Her memory of its blue and green cosmic surface colouring everything she sees, and for a moment, she returns to her safe place; a place that helped her through the turbulent years of puberty. Not that her life has been anything less than turbulent since then, but at least… Read more
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A plethora of colour catches her eye. She doesn’t know their names, but each shade carries with it a memory of some moment in her life that touched her sultry soul. Some of the memories she considers life-changing, while others seem to have persisted for reasons she can’t decipher. It’s strange how these small, superfluous… Read more
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Picturing the sun-blasted pieces of sand that are in reality trillions upon trillions of tiny rocks, she can’t shake the image of Jasmine Rouge’s menstrual blood. Nor does she want to. It spins in her head like a washing machine; like millions of gallons of seawater dissapearing down a maelstrom. Licking her lips, she imagines… Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 