Tag: #shortfiction

Hot room

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“We never reach a goal hoped for. But we can reach a goal unhoped for. At times this can hold good surprises for me.” Hélène Cixous, Writing Blind I am trying to make something good here. I am doing it at the expense of the thing. Sometimes I forget. I wonder what could have been… Continue reading Hot room

I am 29 and the world is at my feet

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I have to start writing again, not because I've been wasting time finding other things to do but more because I've found new sanctity in time. I used to scoff at people who lamented the brevity of things as though they were greedy for wanting more than their share. Now I am hungry for everything… Continue reading I am 29 and the world is at my feet

This isn’t about you it’s about me

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I know you told me so, and you can save your breath if a thought like that is coming up to the surface. It’s hard out here – in here, and god knows I’m hard enough on myself. But I do honestly appreciate you telling me so and also for taking the time to hear… Continue reading This isn’t about you it’s about me

Hurry up please, it’s time

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We spoke again and again, I tried to sleep it off but then, all of a sudden, it had been five days. When I was high I felt euphoria like I had never felt before, and I thought about how I wasn’t thinking of you. You told me about how you had finally realised that… Continue reading Hurry up please, it’s time

October/Panther

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I wrote these pieces in my second year of university in Brighton (2014). They were published (sort of) in the short fiction anthology that year. Last night someone told me I needed a reality check, and it made me miss this time a lot, which is ironic because at the time I was writing about… Continue reading October/Panther