Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Sex

  • She

      Dead flies and faithless figures who dance as if there were no such thing as angels. Dead inside and loving every moment as if the pain of being on the outside for an hour or two were somehow worth it. And all of those years and all of those months where nothing happened- how… Read more

  • Lamb of God

      With night closing in, every lungful of air I inhale makes me dizzier as my steps become laboured. Up ahead of me, beneath the full moon, there’s a blonde wearing black tights. Can’t say what she looks like, but from behind, she makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.… Read more

  • Speak

      The drip-drip of the bathroom sink keeps drip-dripping all through the night, and as we touch and kiss beneath sheets that stick to our skin, I ask how it would make you feel if you knew tomorrow would be the last day of your life. As I push myself inside of you, and you… Read more

  • Loveless

      While she’s stood on the balcony drinking wine from the bottle that was intended for the both of us after our meal, I’m stood weak-kneed in the shower masturbating with the radio turned up so she doesn’t hear my moans and groans as I’m fantasising about nailing her best friend- the one with the… Read more

  • A Simple Love is Not Enough

      Take the blade and carve a star into her forehead. Place the petals of a flower one by one from her nipples to her vulva and chant the middle names of past lovers in ascending order based on their ability to recite the opening of Stephen King’s The Shining. Lay your head down before her… Read more

  • The Road

      She looks a bit like Veronica Lake in her heydey. The same peekaboo hairstyle; the same voluptuous, petite body. She, along with everyone else that has ever been born, was created from the death of a star, and a billion years from now when she’s dead and gone, her soul stuff will linger on… Read more

  • Love Lies Bleeding

      Getting drunk and listening to Elton John’s ‘Yellow Brick Road ignoring the stomach pains that disco dance within my belly, it’s a Saturday night shit-fest as the town eats itself alive as riots on the streets of London tickle my fancy like the image of a brunette in suspenders seductively eating a choc-ice. Should be… Read more

  • We Don’t Know

      Writing on my bed after work, I fall asleep listening to Fripp and Eno. It wasn’t proper sleep, but the kind that sees you walking the thin line between reality and dream. Strange visions flashing behind my eyes as I curled into a ball midway through a blog piece, existential questions kept tapping on… Read more

  • Seed

      It was six years ago today that Sarah and I found out we were going to lose Bethany. Seems like someone else’s life when now reflecting on that period. I wasn’t thirty-two for a start, but a mere twenty-six. Sarah was younger. The world was younger. Life has a habit of going on, and yet… Read more

  • Through the Lens of a Camera

      Like a fox rummaging through trash in search of food, or a woman in full bloom being sniffed out by every leper within a ten-mile radius. In due course, we transform again and again until the time comes to leave it all behind. Shapeless and without form, we dance in an unlit car park… Read more