Sometimes you look out the car window and see them – running alongside you.
You aren’t sure what they are exactly, these strange beings, but you only see them when you least expect it, when your guard is down and then they slip out from the shadows of the trees along the tarmac road and follow the car down the highway.
Read MoreShe trusts Will. She trusts him more than anyone else.
She picks up a shrivelled looking mushroom and takes the leap. The earthy fragrance consumes her whole mouth. Her whole being.
“Try not to have a bad trip,” says Will.
Read More“How about here? The lady I was chatting to on the plane said that if you’re not going to try food fresh from the sea, then there’s no point coming.”
Read MoreWit. Wit. My love, my heart, where are you? You have left me to die? To rot? To mourn?
Read MoreMy eyelashes blinked dew off them, wishing I had a neck to turn my head from side to side so that the drops would pile against my cheek instead of pooling in my eye. It takes a while before I can see.
Read MoreMrs. Willen wiped off the 14th February from the whiteboard with the rag. She felt a flush of heat and put down the rag. In its place she wrote, quite deliberately, quite carefully: 15th February. Her handwriting was large, square and clear. Then she took up the rag once more and erased the 15. A lone th was left, looking blankly at her from the whiteboard.
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