Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Art

  • Menstrual

    The tube of yellow paint is in her left hand. The colour of it reminds her of butter, but not just butter. There’s butter in it for sure, but there’s also the shade of hair belonging to a girl she once sat next to in infant school. Charlene had been her name. She’d worn a… Read more

  • Two X’s

    The yellow tube of paint has a specific name. It’s a catchy one, too. Very exotic. To others, it holds importance, but not to Gretchen, for she has no interest in the names of different tones and hues, nor does she care for which hues are cold, and which ones are warm. The science behind… Read more

  • Frozen Pieces of Cloud

    Sucking on her cigarette until her asthmatic lungs burn like bacon, she coughs and splutters before gingerly getting to her feet. Her feet, bare from having earlier removed her shoes, are covered in paint. Walking in circles, she smiles at the footprints she leaves as if she were leaving them not in paint but fresh… Read more

  • Silently Seedy

    He’s perfectly polite, silently seedy, and yet altogether underwhelming. Gretchen thinks it’s the politeness that offends her the most. If he were more open with his seediness, she’d be more inclined to listen to his words and engage with him, but as it is, he’s one of those guys you just know is holding it… Read more

  • Queer

    Rolling onto her stomach, she pulls off her best Lolita impression and sucks on her cigarette the same way she’d suck on a guy’s dick if she were trying to impress him without meaning it. The leering eyes and pursed mouth belong to one of her tutors, and a pervert tutor at that. Thankfully, he… Read more

  • Fathom

    As the canvas looms over her, she turns onto her back the same way she did earlier in the morning. The sense of Déjà vu is uncanny. Feeling around for her bag, she slips in her hand and grabs the pouch of tobacco. Rolling a cigarette, she brings it to her lips and strikes a… Read more

  • Scrunched Like Claws

    On one such occasion, her father painted her face so that she resembled a tiger. She still has the photo, somewhere; a selfie he shot of her balancing on his shoulders, shrieking with a mixture of fear and elation as her fingers scratched at the cigarette-stained ceiling above her head. To tease her mother, he… Read more

  • Stung Lungs

    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

  • Fleshy Pleasure

    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

  • Dead Trees and Teachers

    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