Jane D.

I’ve seen you sometimes. Not in that pretentious asshole I’ve-seen-the-real-you-and-it’s-beautiful-but-you-don’t-know-it kind of way, I mean, I hope it doesn’t sound like that- I mean in the normal way. Like, when we go out for a walk. (Sorry, I’m making you sound like a dog here, but let me continue my point, please.) We live in…

For the New Millenium

I couldn’t write you a love song Every time I try, it goes wrong… I always wind up involving rum And wind up daydreaming ’bout your bum. Many a tequila sunrise I’ve had to face ‘Cause my mind’s always on the case. So, why can’t I write you a love song? Hasn’t this gone on…

Her Song

She holds on to your memory. Keeps your picture near at all times. Her locket. Her bedside. Her piano. Dark curls and green eyes. Perfect white teeth. A sharp chin. Her lover. Arched eyebrows. When she sits down at the keyboard to play; She’ll hear the words in her ears: ‘I love it when you…

Lock

This soft gold light is only our beginning Love, let us talk until this gold turns silver- To other people this may not seem winning And even no more than a bronze sliver. This feeling is something more intrinsic- Their views are sick and green; take no notice. We two have been false, but this…

Distance is French for…

Once upon a time, there was you and me. We knew not how to act, but were happy- And sad in equal measure, for you see, Far away was where our love had to be. Distance is the bind that separates; And you are the other half of my heart- I know we’re lonely and…

The Life of Charlotte

On the 21st o April, 1816, a miracle was born. Miracles seldom have adequate names, so the gods decided to call this one, ‘Charlotte Brontë’. It was a fitting name, for that was also her birth name. Her father was an Irish Anglican Clergyman, and so her family was reasonably well-off; they’d have had to…

Their First Kiss

They were thirteen-and -a-half years old, on the cusp of puberty. Tony’s hair was long and often fell over his eyes, no matter how he attempted to tame it or tie it. Oscar secretly loved to play with it whenever the two were alone and away from judging eyes. It was his best friend’s best…

Just a Poem

Work of genius, What emotion! They say, looking back at her. Who’s it for? Who holds your heart? Just a poem, says she- nothing more. Are you sure? But the description- at the start! No, it’s nothing more. No one it could be for. It was Autumn, Only just cold. As he was last seen, At least, by me….

Fire, Part VII- The Spreading

Rupert Rodut is not so easily beaten. He lost composure in that court room, of course. But Rupert Rodut does not make the same mistake twice. He does not underestimate a person twice- he never has, and now he isn’t going to start with the good detective Rikes, is he? He’s been moved to a…

The Beauty and the Brontë

‘Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! – I have as much soul as you, – and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to…

A Release

I can’t even be arsed writing this shite. It gives me no enjoyment. None of it does. I can’t be arsed anymore. I fucking wish I was someplace else, a place where I’d be free to do nothing. I just can’t be arsed. I can’t even be arsed going to bed. I should sleep, but…

Molly’s Day

I think you ought to know- Molly was feeling very depressed that day. In fact, you could say Molly was feeling so downright bereft that she wanted to throw herself in front of a bus. I mean, it’d been a hell of a day- she’d gotten fired from her job in the service industry because…