Creative Writing
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I’ve been working on the novel again for just over a week now. And with every passing day, I feel more and more alive. Every time I sense the doubt creeping back in, I tell myself that I can give it up if I want. That I can look for a cushy 9-5 job… Read more
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Outside of time. Floating through cold, empty streets. Trapdoors. Changing hearts and a raging war. The war of my insides. Boredom snuffed me out. It rendered me numb, somewhat dumb. Looking up at distant suns, we laid there in a garden so green, bathed in truthful moonlight. Meteor showers, scuttling spiders so fragile and quick.… Read more
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they write books that say nothing they paint pictures to sell on biscuit tins and rugs all these artists with no voices no ideas worth repeating at all if you’re going to speak speak the truth even if it means derison and abandonment who wants to be part of their useless generation anyway? Read more
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she’s got a cheating heart but so have i we’re both as bad as each other i want to hurt her to make the tears fall from her lying eyes to make her heart break as i tell her that i never really loved her she’s lonely wreckage a wilted flower and it’s no fault … Read more
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Loves dart. Changing hearts and Psalm blah blah. Breaking free of your mother’s curse, you should take my hand and walk with me through the fields of corn and the desert of the real. Parting your hair, I’ll show you the wonders others dare not face. They follow the rules, and bow down to the… Read more
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I’ve only been working on the novel a few days, but already I’m possessed. The energy and passion are back with me like they were all those years ago. All doubt is removed. No, not just removed, but obliterated. I feel as though I can walk through walls, as if the boundaries that were once… Read more
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That skull outside is looking at me with a grin on its bony face. Sat perched on the edge of a step in the garden, it silently mocks me as a dog barks somewhere in the distance. Above it, the crescent moon is faintly visible in the blue sky. It calls to me,… Read more
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I started writing my novel five years ago, but truth be told, my heart wasn’t in it for the last three. Whenever I sat down to write, it was the last thing I wanted to do. There was no belief. No passion or desire in what I was doing. And when that happens, you might… Read more
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Ink across the eyes, moving invisibly like ghosts. Woken by a car alarm, dreams of a sexual nature shattered making me bury my head beneath a pillow in despair. It was a good dream as well. So much flesh and desire. So much warmth, only to be lost so cruelly in an instant. Sunshine shining… Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 