Depression
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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
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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
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When she’s safely away from the scene of the crime, she removes the hotdog from her pocket. To touch it burns her fingers, but she can’t help herself. The thought of waiting for it to cool down is just preposterous, and keeping hold of the fat, juicy sausage any longer than she has to is… Read more
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Licking her lips, she can taste every ounce of meaty goodness as it sizzles on the grill ahead. Shaking with excitement as her feet move with a life of their own, she skips past the blurry shapes that come and go through the mist until she finds herself stood before the source of the culinary… Read more
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What first hits her is the smell of hot food coming from the market stalls that line the main street in town. The high street in question is like a giant vein or a worm. One of those plump worms you see after heavy downfall, wiggling its way along the garden path, edging closer and… Read more
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With both eyes on the cross, her feet glide over the broken glass until it ceases its crunching. The cross is gigantic and yet almost invisible. She reckons if she were to touch its spectral surface, it would be as soft as snow. If it were to fall, though, she’d surely find herself splattered beneath… Read more
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Saw some kids doing poppers behind the local supermarket. They watched me watching them as I passed with both hands clenched in my pockets. Not out of fear of an altercation, but because I was trying hard to keep myself tethered to the here and now. I was lost in thought, you see. Thoughts regarding… Read more
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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
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In the snow, there is scripture. It spells out her needs and wants. She doesn’t want a friend, that’s for sure, but needs a lover. A lover who can dip his finger into her the same way a greedy kid sticks his tongue into a bowl of icing sugar. Soft so soft. So delicate, like… Read more
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At night, she smiles with a bellyful of wine clutching jelly rolls of flesh the colour of milk. Inner thighs milk also. Mountainous. Soft and creamy like butter, but as haunted as the most haunted of petrified wood. The club in my hand splinters. The splinters pierce my tongue. I talk with a lisp, and… Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 