A Brief Encounter (By Winter)

“…And my eyes?”




I kiss her fingertips. Our eyes don’t break contact until she kisses my neck.

“You love me.” Neither a question nor a statement of absolute conviction.

“I do.” No question.

That was summer.


By winter we hoped to see each other dead.


Words terrify me. Their power and immediacy. Will you marry me? Changing everything. Just an articulation of speech. I do. Words transforming worlds. Like a head on collision. It’s a girl. Easier than falling from a great height. I don’t love you anymore.

So, I just say nothing these days.

The Priory Diary

Chapter 1 – May 19th

Damaged rockstar checks in. I take snaps with concealed digi. Snaparazzi extraordinaire!!

Chapter 2 – June 2nd

He seduces me; I love him. Maybe!

Chapter 3 – June 22nd

Shit, I’m late!!!

Try retrieving piccies from publisher.

Chapter 4 – June 24th

Horrorhorses, I’m pregs!!!!!

Chapter 5 – July 2nd

He’s avoiding me. Says I’m just an orderly!

Chapter 6 – July 18th

He checks out. Pics published; ruins his ‘credibility’. Ha!

Chapter 7 – Nov 19th

Publisher marries me.

The Nightmare

He awoke, relieved to realise it was just a dream. Blood, knife and tears in horrific clarity. He got up cautiously, still reeling from the experience. In the dream, the man had smashed through the kitchen window and escaped. But no, his wife’s lover’s head remained safely in the freezer.

Nouveau Riche 2059

The robot adored me. That’s for sure. Her cerulean humanoid eyes regarded me with a perfect programme-balance of love, loyalty and lust. The marriage ring-chip processor was installed and that night we experienced painfully beautiful sex. Still, I was gonna miss popping down the boozer every night with me mates.

…Never Did Run Smooth

“Please kill me,” he pleads. She can’t look at him. Slowly, she retreats. Her final words are: “You’ll never walk out on me again.”


The police find him. He has lost seven pints of blood and it has taken two days for him to die.


They never find his legs.

Notes: Lost and Found


I broke the Regency mirror. Now whenever you look yourself in those insensate eyes you’ll remember how you splintered my spirit and broke my heart. I’ll take seven years bad luck and wish you a lifetime. Oh, and I crashed your car and incinerated your clothes.

(Not) Yours Stella.