Writing
-
The postman’s nose even resembled a beak, and, if she remembers correctly, his teeth, all stained and crocked, were as big as giant paving slabs. That morning, on her doorstep, she crossed her arms over her breasts to prevent his bulging eyes seeing anything more. It was the first time she had ever done such… Read more
-
The river shimmers in her mind. Her memory of its blue and green cosmic surface colouring everything she sees, and for a moment, she returns to her safe place; a place that helped her through the turbulent years of puberty. Not that her life has been anything less than turbulent since then, but at least… Read more
-
A plethora of colour catches her eye. She doesn’t know their names, but each shade carries with it a memory of some moment in her life that touched her sultry soul. Some of the memories she considers life-changing, while others seem to have persisted for reasons she can’t decipher. It’s strange how these small, superfluous… Read more
-
He’s perfectly polite, silently seedy, and yet altogether underwhelming. Gretchen thinks it’s the politeness that offends her the most. If he were more open with his seediness, she’d be more inclined to listen to his words and engage with him, but as it is, he’s one of those guys you just know is holding it… Read more
-
Rolling onto her stomach, she pulls off her best Lolita impression and sucks on her cigarette the same way she’d suck on a guy’s dick if she were trying to impress him without meaning it. The leering eyes and pursed mouth belong to one of her tutors, and a pervert tutor at that. Thankfully, he… Read more
-
On one such occasion, her father painted her face so that she resembled a tiger. She still has the photo, somewhere; a selfie he shot of her balancing on his shoulders, shrieking with a mixture of fear and elation as her fingers scratched at the cigarette-stained ceiling above her head. To tease her mother, he… Read more
-
Thinking of that teacher, and those dreamy lumps of flesh she possessed, Gretchen licks the canvas as if it were a sweet treat. With her mouth breathing heavily upon its surface, she imagines what it would be like to suckle the nipples on the jelly-like breasts she gazed at from the back of the classroom… Read more
-
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
-
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
Author S. K. Nicholas 