SHORT STORIES: Afterwards

The rain shears itself across the glass, and he lets out a sigh. Wipes a tear from his cheek and looks at it glisten on the side of his palm. Lets the light bounce off it and into him. He watches as she walks away from the building, off…

SHORT STORIES: Bus Smokes

He never thought he was addicted to smoking. He'd told himself at first he only smoked with friends but he remembered the first time he bought a pack and smoked them alone. He remembered furiously burning through a packet of reds after a…

SHORT STORIES: Overnights

Awake He wakes as suddenly as he fell asleep. Her head is resting on his arm, her lips and nose gently touching his chest. He thinks he is the luckiest man alive. She breaths quietly and he holds her hand, wraps her around him. For a while…

Living with OCD, Continued

A couple of months back, I wrote two pieces for Cultured Vultures about coping with my OCD and mindfulness. A lot happens in a few months, and I figured it felt about time to talk about my mental illness again. Never let it be said that OCD…

SHORT STORIES: Drive

His knuckle lightly snaps. The sun shears through the windscreen, staining his eyes in white noise. He squints. A smoke droops from his bottom lip, unlit and waiting. The country dashes by, swirls of smoke and dirt and earth. She yawns and…

SHORT STORIES: Just Add You

He stands by the side of the platform, swaying back and forth slightly. He glances at his watch - the tube is late, for a change. He lets out a slight sigh. His eyes ache to close. It is too early and too cold and all for a job he couldn't…

SHORT STORIES: ‘Ground’

He shifted from foot to foot, pushing the blood through him. The carriage doors pulled open as a fresh gust of cold melancholy swept in. Bodies pressed onto the tube, cold winds rushing between legs. He looked out at the glimpse of dark…