Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Writing

  • Existential Wonders and Woes

    Through the slits of her beady eyes, she sees a cock transform into a tree, and then a sleeping dog morph into a leaping fox. The fox is leaping over the moon, or could it be a lone pebble on a sandy beach? And is it really a fox, or instead a magpie flapping its… Read more

  • As if Made of Sand

    Licking her lips like a greedy kid, Gretchen takes a step closer to the blood-splattered canvas. In the splatter, she sees an abundance of crimson shapes, shifting as if made of sand. Many of them are sexual. Those that aren’t remind her of death, which is the same thing, more or less. The radius of… Read more

  • Autumn Rhythm

    In a daze as the blood flows with no sign of abating, she has the thousand-yard stare as the images in her head explode as if her skull’s on the receiving end of a shotgun blast. Bringing her fingers to her bottom lip, she touches the claret as it pours like a fine, red wine—one… Read more

  • In Mind

    Opening her eyes as wide as they’ll go, the moon gently dissolves from her mind like a snowflake melting in an open palm. Gazing intently at the spot where her brush is pointing, she stalks the canvas never losing sight of the area where she’s to make her first mark. Will it be a gentle… Read more

  • A Sudden Twitch

    Her fingers tingle intermittently as she points the brush at each of the four corners of the canvas. As she does so, paint drips from its bristles, splashing her toes so it appears she’s coloured each of her nails a different shade of blue. The feeling of it as it slides over her flesh reminds… Read more

  • Dried Sultanas

    The void was death, and the void was in her head. It was also between her legs. It was most things; it was all things. There was something blood-curdling about the void, and yet, stood before the canvas on the verge of bringing it to life, she knows the void is what she desires more… Read more

  • Chandeliers and Feathers

    Increasing her grip on the brush, she wipes her eyes with her left hand. The more she seeks out the image, the harder it is to keep control, and yet she knows that to relinquish control is the only way she can bring the image to fruition. She hates opening up this way, because every… Read more

  • Speed Trials

    The song that plays is Speed Trials. The first track on his album Either/Or. She doesn’t know the album will play in its entirety, and yet somehow, she does. The hushed vocals and delicate guitar have an immediate effect on her, the same as they always do. It’s one of her favourite albums, and she plays it… Read more

  • The First Cut

    Aiming the paintbrush at the canvas, she imagines making the first mark. Although it won’t be a mark, as such, it’ll be more of a cut, and as Rod Stewart once sang, the first cut is the deepest. And also the hardest. Aiming with one eye shut, she searches the surface for a hint of,… Read more

  • Cut It Off

    Grabbing a broken paintbrush, she swipes it through the air as if in the midst of a drunken duel. After a few moments though, something doesn’t feel right, so she discards the brush and picks up another. This one has more weight to it, but it doesn’t have the length, so she chucks it to… Read more