eatenbyatiger
/ art

“all I want in life is to be eaten by a tiger”

Originally posted on sarahgoodreau:
a man wrestled a tiger and won. over a post match glass of sherry the man confessed he had wanted to lose. “all I want in life is to be eaten by a tiger”, he said.

eatenbyatiger
/ art

“all I want in life is to be eaten by a tiger”

Originally posted on sarahgoodreau:
a man wrestled a tiger and won. over a post match glass of sherry the man confessed he had wanted to lose. “all I want in life is to be eaten by a tiger”, he said.

xxneptune

what did the maid think when she found broken glass in the rubbish?

I wrote this story yesterday, before sunrise, before I had to wake the kid up and drive him to school, before my customary breakfast of fruit and granola bowl at a cafe where they play soppy 80s music and let

xxneptune

what did the maid think when she found broken glass in the rubbish?

I wrote this story yesterday, before sunrise, before I had to wake the kid up and drive him to school, before my customary breakfast of fruit and granola bowl at a cafe where they play soppy 80s music and let

lemanshots_girl

the butterfly collector

Here’s the link to my latest flash fiction on Hijacked Amygdala.  It’s about infidelity, the least original of sins. Also have a look at brilliant art and poetry from Anna Spoon. It blows the mind.   the butterfly collector It

lemanshots_girl

the butterfly collector

Here’s the link to my latest flash fiction on Hijacked Amygdala.  It’s about infidelity, the least original of sins. Also have a look at brilliant art and poetry from Anna Spoon. It blows the mind.   the butterfly collector It

img_9960-1

saturn return

The inconvenient thing about rebirth is the lack of space. There’s a mess of tangled legs behind my rib cage– the old me that’s no longer funny, no longer charming without a gin and tonic in hand, and one or

img_9960-1

saturn return

The inconvenient thing about rebirth is the lack of space. There’s a mess of tangled legs behind my rib cage– the old me that’s no longer funny, no longer charming without a gin and tonic in hand, and one or

hopegangloffphone

correspondence 9.9.16

It is ten o’clock where I am, at a cafe, on an island down south, where a Thai cook is watching television, having already prepared my breakfast. It is low season, and in the course of the day, I am the only one he will see.

hopegangloffphone

correspondence 9.9.16

It is ten o’clock where I am, at a cafe, on an island down south, where a Thai cook is watching television, having already prepared my breakfast. It is low season, and in the course of the day, I am the only one he will see.

deger bakir.jpg

ernesto

Originally posted on hijacked amygdala:
art by deger bakir You wore a skirt, it was purple, a favourite, its lace fringe limp against your brown thighs. And a pink translucent blouse, the top buttons undone from which a crucified Jesus…

deger bakir.jpg

ernesto

Originally posted on hijacked amygdala:
art by deger bakir You wore a skirt, it was purple, a favourite, its lace fringe limp against your brown thighs. And a pink translucent blouse, the top buttons undone from which a crucified Jesus…

img_8999.png

it takes half an hour to get home

She slides her feet forward so her scarred limbs stretch between the legs of standing passengers.

img_8999.png

it takes half an hour to get home

She slides her feet forward so her scarred limbs stretch between the legs of standing passengers.

IMG_7985

don’t forget the alcohol

if the next forty years
are anything like the last
chop off my son’s fingers

IMG_7985

don’t forget the alcohol

if the next forty years
are anything like the last
chop off my son’s fingers

Untitled

at 6am on June 21

rain early morning
i’m flying over potholes
chasing after you.

Untitled

at 6am on June 21

rain early morning
i’m flying over potholes
chasing after you.

img_9741

correspondence 17.6.16

  From: Babe <listentothebabe@mail.com> To: Gordon Flanders <gordonflanders@mail.com> Date: Friday, June 17, 2016 at 9:39 AM Subject: the way the rain smells Dear G I’ve been waiting for the rains to come since early May. The locals say that this

img_9741

correspondence 17.6.16

  From: Babe <listentothebabe@mail.com> To: Gordon Flanders <gordonflanders@mail.com> Date: Friday, June 17, 2016 at 9:39 AM Subject: the way the rain smells Dear G I’ve been waiting for the rains to come since early May. The locals say that this

dead things

Dead Things: My flash fiction piece for the week on Hijacked Amygdala. Proceed with caution.

dead things

Dead Things: My flash fiction piece for the week on Hijacked Amygdala. Proceed with caution.

lady1-e1456486961251

atomic love

your effect on me i don’t recognise myself gravity died when you rejigged my molecules i breathe in your atmosphere.

lady1-e1456486961251

atomic love

your effect on me i don’t recognise myself gravity died when you rejigged my molecules i breathe in your atmosphere.

tumblr_mjc4amhpea1qdj0hbo1_1280-e1456550834154

the local

You had not spoken to anyone in weeks. Nothing of any consequence beyond the polite thank you, keep the change, I’d like a cappuccino please. These interactions were your only connection to the world, the only proof you still existed,

tumblr_mjc4amhpea1qdj0hbo1_1280-e1456550834154

the local

You had not spoken to anyone in weeks. Nothing of any consequence beyond the polite thank you, keep the change, I’d like a cappuccino please. These interactions were your only connection to the world, the only proof you still existed,