Blog posts : "Stories and Descriptions"

The Faceless

May 29, 2017

She made a delivery to an office without a view.  The man who took the package was unrecognisable.  She tried to introduce herself but every time she tried, she failed.  Recognising her frustration, he took her to a mirror where she saw she had no face.  He then showed her a wall of glass that conta…

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Sheriff of Zombie Town

May 1, 2014

Awoke from dreams she was the sheriff of Zombie Town, which was set up by those who's loved ones had become zombies and could not bare to dispose of/ dispatch them.

We also had a research center set up.  Trials of complete blood transfusions had begun.

Discussions on how long we could realistical…

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The minefield crashed into a bus full of vegan zombies.

March 26, 2014

The minefield crashed into a bus full of vegan zombies.  

It fled and climbed to the top of a mountain, dared to look down and saw that all that was destroyed on the way up, had become beautiful as a result.  The minefield turned to look down the other side of the mountain.  Would it climb back do…

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A daily occurrence between her and I

March 17, 2014

A daily occurrence between her and I
Unspoken, it was our way
She would sit or stand.
I would watch her long neck and shoulders
Wishing I were at liberty to touch just once
To see if her skin felt like perfume
Although I had lost my sense of smell years ago
Oh how she made me want to remember.
And c…

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Stands in the epicentre of a whirlwind

March 5, 2014

Stands in the epicentre of a whirlwind.
Calm whilst everything around, pirouettes
She once felt her finger
Flick the eye of a walker
It stained her to tears
And yet and yet
She stands still in the centre of pirouettes
- Written 2014-03-05


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Her Room Was A Shambles, Her Eyes Were A Mess.

February 26, 2014

Her room was a shambles, her eyes were a mess.  The Mona Lisa lay at her feet, yet again.  
She wore razor blades around her neck.
His belt was made of papyrus and he smelled like oaked strawberries.  The leather had taken up smoking again.  He dared not tell his mother.
The TV was on a froze…

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The Missing Link

March 21, 2013

The missing link belts tunes fashioned from twisted, internal memories.  It hides the broccoli, force feeds inferior scotch and reminds of impending anniversaries.  It hides a bed inside a wardrobe and sleeps in a cocoon made of feathers and pillows.  It wakes with the feel of fur and a rough tongue…

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