Well, I meant to post this on Halloween, but I forgot (as in, I was too busy covering the flat in velvet and candles ahead of our Halloween party). But anyway, here’s a Victorian-gothic short story of mine that was selected for publication in the “Show Us Your Shorts” story anthology
Short Stories + Poetry
Runner-up, The Writer’s Digest poetry competition 2018 PEAKS That was the night we drove to the highlands And the fierce white peaks were arrows pointed at the stars. I remember the moon, the colour and texture of snow Crumbling from the mountain Tumbling into the dark. You
Half-night dusk-light Dims the lingering lilac-white Rough-cut cloud, not cotton soft, But dead and dull, dry tufts of hair A thin-drawn rip in jet-torn sky Glows deep and fine As a lamp-lit scratch in a table-top Then sinks its smoke to smoothness – Stops.