Kath presses the on button. While the handset powers up she slides open the drawer, riffles through brown envelopes, closes it again intact. She feels nauseous. Her phone vibrates making her jump; a pale blue flight flickers in the top left hand corner. Read more →
At night, in quiet weather, you can hear them scratching; like that grating sound when mother rubs your knees with sandpaper, because you tried to smoke grandfather’s pipe or mispronounced ‘rough shag’.
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Running through the usual gestures of self-reproach, our hero descends into the waking city. Old hand at this kind of thing, sea-legs keep her steady as she regards her reflection in silvered shop windows, Read more →
In 2004, you ordered me online. I was £5000 because I was the newest one, the most realistic one they had at the time. Your friend was showing you them on his big PC and you were both laughing at the losers who buy these Read more →
As soon as their lips touch, they drop the cool, no longer required to tuck away their desires to make themselves palatable. They claw at each other, rabid with the taste of saliva and skin, like sharks at the first sniff of blood. Read more →
Memories which horrify her on cold, sober walks still tick somewhere in her blood. At night, the rejected words sometimes run over her skin like a wave; she is still somehow primed for them. Read more →