this ends badly

Here’s my flash fiction for the week on Hijacked Amygdala. Go on, have a read. There’s also a delightful little poem about being pissed from Laura Feasey that you shouldn’t miss.

hijacked amygdala

monika kozak art by monika kozak

I met her at a party, it was someone’s birthday, someone introduced us and I fell in love with her thick eyelashes and the dark shadows under her eyes.

‘I don’t sleep,’ she said. ‘I haven’t since I left uni. My body forgot how to do it.’

I said it was impossible to forget how to sleep, and I sounded arrogant because I was terrified that she would excuse herself, say she needed a drink, and not return. She laughed, and I noticed there were shadows in her eyes too.

That first night, we didn’t make love. She floated around my single bedroom flat peering into my refrigerator, my closet, my medicine cabinet. I didn’t know what she was looking for. What are you looking for? I asked.

‘You,’ she replied.

When she found out I was poet, she asked me to read her my poems…

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About listentothebabe

writing is the teeth that gnaw on my bones.

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