Dreams
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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
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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
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Unscrewing the bottle of brandy as she sits slumped against the wall, she sniffs and gags and sniffs again as the foul-smelling spirit worms its way into her brain. The smell reminds her of old man’s aftershave, and creepy uncles with wandering hands and the packets of Fisherman’s Friend her father would keep in the… Read more
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Shifting between a strange art student and a demonic, life-size spider, she now resembles a blathering and belligerent Tasmanian Devil. Kinda like the one from the cartoons she once watched as a child around her grandparents’ house after school with a plate full of food on her lap and a glass of lemonade by her… Read more
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Pushing the door with an outstretched hand, a glowy warm light washes over her body, painting her pale cheeks with a smidge of pink. Blowing onto her aching fingers that are cracked, sore and ready to bleed, the mist follows her in and tries to pull her back onto the street, but with a swift… Read more
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Lost to the world, the blast of a horn brings her back to the here and now. Thinking once more of the Elephant Man as she wipes her nose on the sleeve of her coat, she imagines him again hurrying through the backstreets of London, endlessly pursued by those hellbent on giving him a good… Read more
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His touch is shy, but the more it lingers, the more she sees how for the first time in his life, it makes him feel good to be alive and less shameful to exist within his curious skin. His lips are wet, and the kiss is clumsy, but then again, so is hers. The belt… Read more
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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
Author S. K. Nicholas 