Let it be noted that this is dictation: I am not writing it. I say this to you in case my scribe – he is new – turns out be shit and gets something rong. It is not my fault: I am not at fault. Do you hear me! I am talking aloud as I walk and swerve and walk and swerve around the throne room.
Continue readingshort story
My Book: 50 Pages In and Whaaaaat
Hello lovely. How the devil are you? No wait, hush, don’t answer, there’s no time for your yawnsome yarn-spinning. There is a more pressing matter at hand: my own yawnsome yarn-spinning! Huzzah! Continue reading
So I’m Writing a Book
Hello there, you lovely swine, you. Guess what.
I’m writing a book. Continue reading
Fox Hunting in the Desert
Blackness and swirling drunk dreams of conversations with people I’ve not seen or even thought about in ten years. Continue reading
Companions – Short Story
I did my fly up and rinsed my hands in the sink. My paper hat was skew-whiff in the mirror. I took it off, parted my hair, repositioned it, then for the fifteenth time checked I hadn’t got any sauce on my shirt. I shook my hands dry as I turned, and through my own interminable bad luck I found myself flicking water over James Dean’s groin.
“Shit, sorry man,” I murmured as I bustled past.
“Ah, it’s nothin’,” he shrugged, undoing his belt and slinking past me into a cubicle. Continue reading