It was an elongated stretch of boredom that led me to throw a pair of socks against the brick wall of my apartment, one afternoon misspent and wanting of purpose. To my surprise, the dull thud of knitted cotton on render had found itself to be just quiet enough that it might not wake my … Continue reading Fire & Socks
Tag: fiction
A Walk Around Trugala Station
‘You may not know this, but every goat in Australia is orientated by nautical terms.’ Walking past a ramshackle gate without fence, the old farmer, known as Noel, placed his boot up on a shin-high post and looked off into the flat of a long-stretching horizon, ‘clerical error I heard, way back in the seventeens … Continue reading A Walk Around Trugala Station
A Note Left on My Fridge III
Hark!Hark, I wailsome-ly call to the heavens and hells of mighty horsemen bounding toward apocilypta! Hark, I call out so loudly that seraph above become unseated from their cloud and scatter halo, serif marks and dainty wings across the landscape below, falling to the vortex of your abandon. Why must this house of fragility be … Continue reading A Note Left on My Fridge III
John, why are there Grass Clippings all over the Floor?
A short story about a very odd friend.
A Single Stone
A single stone sat upon the edge of a distant shoreline and contemplated existence. Surrounded by a panoptic wreath of sea and sand, the outward world felt expanding and almost unending: like a single needle placed into a pin-cushion, as if a lone dot was struck upon a canvas; the stone would think of distance … Continue reading A Single Stone
A King’s Coup De Grace
I always assumed that I’d die surrounded by my friends, their steely knives bearing down upon me as I looked up in surprise to be cut down: inexplicably thinking about Caesar and wishing I took better notice of the exit path. A king’s death, that’s how I wanted to go. Not a gout laden heart-burst … Continue reading A King’s Coup De Grace
A Knock at the Door
A single knock landed upon my door much in a way that a bookcase might fall down a set of stairs. The heavy handed slap of deadweight echoed through each corner of my small apartment, seemingly to make sure that every groutline, every granule of dust, knew that the door had just been resoundingly knocked. … Continue reading A Knock at the Door
Quiet on the River’s Edge
Quick note: This is a horror short There’s a bridge a few minutes from my home that crosses over a small river. Not small enough that it should go without mention but this was the type of river that would be hard to describe if you were ever asked. It was bland in many senses, … Continue reading Quiet on the River’s Edge
On Engineers
Everything has the potential to be used as a hammer and the founding core of any engineer’s life is in improving the arc of impact, or just working out a way to stop people from trying to use the thing as a hammer to begin with. It’s an application of weighted intent alleviated with the … Continue reading On Engineers
Candle Drinking and Other Moments of Plight
It was when I drank from the candle on my dining room table that I realised I was probably going to be the knot tied at the end of my bloodline. Thousands of years of human endeavor encircling the very moment in which I poured hot wax onto my tongue and burnt off a reasonable … Continue reading Candle Drinking and Other Moments of Plight
Sunday Short Stories 