Prose

The cigarette dangles from his hand, dropping ash on the scuffed surface of the table. He doesn’t notice. His eyes are focused on a spot on the dark wood, but his gaze is turned inward, sifting through the fog of recollection. The night had been a mess of moving shadows, like ghosts on a sunken […]

The pen hadn’t been worth stealing. Just a biro, maybe worth fifty cents new. Second-hand? Nothing. Literally worthless. She tossed it onto the coffee-table and slid her hands into her pockets to clutch a tissue in one, Chapstick in the other. A pen’s worth everything, Ben would have said. Worth the words you write with […]

March. A dissertation on Freedom. She browses through the library stacks for Freud’s “Jokes and their Relation to the Unconscious.” Reading it at home that evening she finds a passage underlined that exemplifies what she seeks from the book: “Freedom produces jokes and jokes produce freedom”. She flips to the back of the book and looks […]

The wine’s been drunk. She’s lifted the bottle more than once to see if there’s another drop she can coax from its neck. Each time is as unsatisfying as the last. “We need some more wine,” she grumbles. “Yeah, well, I need a new job,” he replies. He has a newspaper in front of him, […]

The Old Woman liked to dance. On Saturdays she would set up the gramophone, and sway to the music alone until someone came to dance with her. The Old Woman was white: white of skin, white of hair, clad in a shroud of white. But her limbs moved with the grace and freedom of death: […]

She lit the cigarette. Put it to her lips. Took a pull, long, savouring it. Pressed the glowing end against her freckled forearm and let it sear. “Hey.” She dropped her leg down from the wooden crate serving as her seat, and blew a stream of smoke at him as she turned. “What’s up, Brock?” […]

The night was dark, the moon a sliver in the western sky. It hid behind a cloud, from time to time peeking out to cast its faint light down upon the world. In the cemetery, there was activity. Johnson put his spade down and set his hands on his hips, with a sharp exhale through […]

Her eyes. It was always her eyes that grabbed me, forced me to pay attention to her and only her. Those eyes are large – too large, in fact. On someone else they would have looked strange, or frightening. On her, they take my breath away.   They are green. The first night I looked […]

They’re hideous clichés. They feel the shame of it, the sour tang of guilt every time they indulge themselves in something they love. They are self-conscious. Aware of the rôles in which they find themselves to the point where their thoughts blur into scripted lines. Every touch and tilt of the head is performed in […]

She pressed her red lips to the stone. There was a “click” as he pressed the shutter. She saw his grin when he had lowered the camera, and grinned back. “Can I take one of the mark?” he said. “Sit next to it. – No, I like your lips smudged. It works.” More snaps. She […]