At work, there was a sheet of paper taped to the wall outside the toilets informing whoever it may concern that one of the cleaners that had retired a few months ago had died. Derek was his name, and he was South African. Truth be told we never had much to do with each… Read more

  Remember that guy I worked with? The one who murdered his daughter? It was back when I was living in Hatfield. My shifts were mostly 2-10, and when I finished clearing those daily cages of pies and pasties and was upstairs in the locker room collecting my belongings, he was usually getting ready to… Read more

  Black tights, she wears black tights while her legs cross and uncross beneath the table as we patiently wait for our food. It’s Waggamma’s on a Friday night after work. I’m drinking bottled beer while she sips a cup of green tea. The evening’s young and while her body speaks to me in a… Read more

  We link fingers and make love. Or is it fucking? I think this constitutes as fucking. You take it in the mouth and only when I allow it do you swallow. To think of those futures you hold, and then with one lick of the lips, it’s just another dead end. Struggling to breathe… Read more

  While sat in the passenger seat, she inspects herself in a small mirror she carries in her purse. Looking not outward but inward, behind my closed eyes I see cheerleaders dancing just for me. They wink suggestively while gyrating their hips causing me to dribble from the sides of my mouth. There’s dried blood… Read more

  There was a terrorist attack in London yesterday. Some dumb fuck ran down a load of people on Westminster Bridge and then stabbed a policeman to death. They shot the guy soon after- I saw the photo of him lying on the pavement with pistols pointing at his prone body. I’m a bit young… Read more

  When I’m drunk, I insert things into her body. Marbles. Coins. Sunflower seeds. Stuff like that. As she’s lying there laughing at the absurdity of it all, I speak in hushed tones to her vagina. Questions, so many questions. She is my alter, she’s monolithic. When she asks what I’m doing I feed her… Read more

  The water looks like oil. When I’m drunk, I ignite the oil. She’s got nice breasts, don’t you think? They appear so smooth and smell like Play-Doh. This oil, though, it gets on my clothes. It chokes me when I’m trying to sleep. Reminds me of the paints I used to use back when… Read more

  Remember that time I had an existential crisis in WHSmith? Stood in the queue with a notepad and some magazines under my arm, I was checking to see whether or not to pay with cash or card when the realisation of my situation hit me. The dinosaurs- they had been dead for millions of… Read more