Crisscrossed and tumbling over itself, the mostly sentient bulk lumbered its way through a wall and into the sewer canal. A mass of ambulatory garbage, bulging with the assorted detritus of much that was unmentionable, tracked a smear of someting gastly behind its form as it slid across the brickwork.One single thought drifted through the … Continue reading They call me Cloth!
Month: June 2020
Up Round at the Tavern by the River’s Edge
A neat row of bottles stood proudly on their display shelf behind the bar of Dorrily river tavern.Locals who gossip in forever rounding circles of weather and fading memories, invariably wander towards the realm of drunken speculation as the night grows tired. What was the actual difference between a king’s pint and a double half-pint, … Continue reading Up Round at the Tavern by the River’s Edge
The migatory habbits of the housebound pot plant
Left corner just by the fridge: the aspidistra sits quietly, an undying phoenix of pot plant regalia and evergreen staple of apartment decor; this plant, though never truly blending into its position, has been shuffled across the many diffrent corners, of hundres of apartments, more frequently than a game of chess played with only one … Continue reading The migatory habbits of the housebound pot plant
The Last of the Mornings
Station 60. The road reaches [REDACTED]...…‘Well the raido’s dead.’ Knocking the input microphone against its transmitter, Mason frowned as his pugilistic methods of fault finding had failed to make good whatever problem was bricking the station radio. ‘What do you reckon R922 ERR is?’ he said, placing the microphone down and giving the isolation transformer … Continue reading The Last of the Mornings
Sunday Short Stories 