One Time at Camden Lock

1 / I watch the man in the crumpled white shirt take a swig from his can of Stella and … More

Oh, Man

I don’t need you to kill any spiders. I can buy my own flowers. I prefer to sleep alone. I … More

CW: suicide, death, description of dead body I went past him on the bus. I could only see his feet, … More

This CNF piece, a mash-up of two old works of mine, was a runner-up in Dead Fern Press‘ Valentine’s Content … More

Free-written 2 weeks after I had a psychotic break last year The middle-aged Italian woman across the way is at … More

I feel so far removed from the thousand or so nights that I spent splayed out on that broken bed, … More

They are cooking a roast dinner. She is rifling through the drawers, searching for her favourite knife, and he is … More

I should’ve realised that we weren’t going to make it on that sunny June afternoon when we were wandering around … More

“Hey, kid, where’s your mama?” “At work,” she says. “What about your dad?” “Gone.” I flinch for a moment, wondering … More

The phrase, “Can I ask you an honest question?” doesn’t make sense to me anymore. Maybe it’s because he uses … More