Far away in the north was once a grand city famous for its splendour and beauty. The inner city of this wondrous place was filled with twinkling lights, no matter how deep into the night it was, while beautiful people in their finest clothes passed each other in ornate carriages. The scent of champagne lay …
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Writing
Fiction: ‘The Monster of the Wasteland’
There are all kinds of monsters in this world, but none of them look like the ones from storybooks and ancient tales. They aren’t quite the stuff of nightmares. Instead, they smile and nod politely when you pass them in the street. They’ll make you a cup of tea if you call in at their …
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Fiction: ‘The Jinn’
Deep in a desert not far from here there once rose a vast mountain. Snow always glittered from its peak, even under the blistering summer sun, and lush trees grew around the base even though it had been many years since this region last saw rain. But the most remarkable ... Continue reading Fiction: ‘The Jinn’
Fiction: ‘Better Days’
The middle of the day feels like the dead of the night, and I'm never so alone as when I'm with you. I don't remember the exact moment of fracture, but we drifted apart like continental plates; imperceptible up close but forever changing the shape of things. Why can't we say goodbye? Why can't we … Continue reading Fiction: ‘Better Days’
Fiction: ‘Famous Red Dress’
It’s five in the morning and a grey light is starting to pierce the air. The frost melts beneath its touch. Trains begin to rattle down the line, their carriages empty, the platforms still and bare. You stand upon that same spot where you first saw her. No-one passes you at this hour. And even …
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Fiction: ‘The Crow’
He sits on a branch, shifting from one foot to another as he puffs his feathers out against the cold. His beak, once a sharp point, is now blunt. Even his lovely charcoal feathers have lost their gloss and sit raggedly like an ill-fitting coat. He stretches out his tired old wings. For a moment ...
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Fiction: ‘The Physicist’
They say that time moves slower for the people down there upon the Earth. But only when compared with those that inhabit the space stations that orbit our planet. For the purpose of this research, I’ll be referring to them as ‘People of the Skies’, and ‘People of the Earth’. They were the opening lines ...
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Fiction: ‘House of Ash’
‘Welcome! Welcome everyone!’ he announces in his booming voice. It carries far over the heads of the gathered citizens who buzz with excitement at the bottom of the steps. There’s a flash of cameras from the crowd. For the first time in recent history, the reporters have all gone quiet. The house behind the man ...
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All my words were stolen by the wind…
I sit in a bare patch in my garden, covered in dirt, the scent of soil thick in the air. A drizzle covers everything in a fine veil. Wearing nothing but a thin waterproof coat and gumboots, I hold the notebook open in my lap, my fingertips drumming on the empty page. I can’t stop ...
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Fiction: ‘The Bookshop’
She pulls the thread taught down the crease between the pages and around the spine. The book creaks as it stretches wide. She ties the string in the centre of the spine and hangs it from a small hook on the ceiling. She does this over and over until the ceiling is covered with books ...
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