[Flash Fiction] Fifteen Seconds

100 words// TW: suicide I have been falling for five seconds. Perhaps only ten more to go. Ravenous wind claws at my hair and maces my dry eyes. My wingless corpse’s reflection paints each office window, staining the worker’s minds with nothing more than an insignificant blur. I lose my right sandal and wish it…

[Fiction] A break from my novel

So I had enough of writing my novel, and wrote a piece about my feelings at the time because I had A LOT of doubt and mixed feelings about it. I haven’t worked on it in about 10 weeks… Do you wanna know what’s torturous? Not knowing what to do. Or in my case, not…

[FICTION] Its living metaphors of complication

Simple daily encounters with arising demons are enough to tip It over the edge. Sparkling sea blue iris’s swallowed by a sea of jet black matter, time in no way close to the finish line. Sure, those snarling sharks within the sky eyes ponder of such sadness, ponder to why It feels such sadness on…

[FICTION] Trapped

For this weekly exercise, we were asked to start a first person narrative with the line “You know what I mean?”, taken from Z Z Packer’s ’Gideon’. We were told to write about something that happened earlier in the narrator’s life. I post every Monday, Thursday and Saturday! You know what I mean?… No. You…

[FICTION] L-19F and S-25F

In one of my course exercises, we were asked to write from the third person limited. These two short pieces are also potential spinoffs from one of my novel projects! I publish every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday!! L-19F third person limited POV After three months experiencing the torment of passing time, she finally realises her…

[POEMS] The Red Wheelbarrow

Once upon a time in a London town, Where office labourers lived, Where habitants frowned. There lived a little girl with a bright red cloak, Bright red boots and a little red bow, Skipping along the pavement, contrasting from city smoke. In her hands, she pushes a little red wheelbarrow. Eyes as bright as rubies,…

[FICTION] After the encounter

For one of my lecture tasks, I was asked to write a short piece in response to this photograph, Lee Miller’s portrait of painters Leonora Carrington and Max Ernst. I personally quite enjoyed this exercise, and mainly honed in on the features of the elderly man. Another aspect I tried to capture was the unconditional…