Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Art

  • 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

  • Hangovers

    As her throat burns and the hotdog curls in her belly, she lights a smoke and continues to think about dick. Not in a lustful way, or anything like that. She’s never had dick that she’s enjoyed. Never had dick that she’s hated, either. She could quite easily go without if she wanted, and yet… Read more

  • Girl, Dead

    Some girl I went to school with died. We weren’t friends, as such, and yet we rubbed shoulders year after year for the best years of our lives. Mine certainly. She had an infectious smile. A childish smirk that stayed with her well into adulthood. To die in your thirties is no time to die… Read more

  • HG

    There are two bees having sex in a forest next to a bucket of water containing frogspawn. There are streaks of pink hair as flaky fingers lift a tulip to a chin. The bees rise. The fingers that touch the tulip that sits beneath the chin belong to a girl becoming a woman, like a… Read more

  • Cold, Beaten, Stark and Silent

    Fucker, she cusses, under her wispy breath. The smoke from her cigarette forms a halo above her head, and as she floats down the street, it leaves a trail resembling a long streak of cotton candy. Not pink, obviously. Can you get white cotton candy? She doesn’t think so, but you never know. Twitching her… Read more

  • Wet Air

    There’s a sense of purity in the mist. A dreamy bliss that hides the decay of the day-to-day. It brings her a great deal of comfort, and yet, she wishes it would clear so at least she can see where she’s going. Stumbling along, she’s certain that she’ll put her foot in dog shit, or… Read more

  • Soggy Mittens

    The town is small, but the world beyond it is big. So big that she can’t comprehend the vastness of it at all. Not that it matters much at this precise moment. The mist is suffocating. Not just to her, but to everything that exists alongside of her. From the trees to the streets to… Read more

  • Down to the Bone

    With one hand down my pants, and the other on a cold beer, the horrors of the universe are born again in the tingle within my belly. It’s yellow and buttery like sand, maybe melting plastic, or the custard-like flesh of a girl I once loved who left me for some boy with a more… Read more

  • The Tree Has Cancer

    The tree has cancer. God gave the tree cancer. Perhaps he was bored, or drunk, or both. God did the gardening one day, then went for a walk. Along the way, he got distracted by this, that and the other, and his mind drifted. It’s been drifting ever since, and now we’re all just traces… Read more

  • Like Come

    She’s not long gone from this world. Perhaps little more than an hour. When she comes around, her heart feels heavy—so heavy it’s almost as if it’s escaped her body and is sinking through the bedroom floor. Attached to a thin strip of flesh, it swings to and fro from her chest like a pendulum.… Read more