Other Writing

It smells like rain, except it isn’t rain. It’s lies. It can’t smell like rain all the time.

‘You’re mistaken,’ he says again. ‘Deluded.’

Words come and go to him like a wet dog shaking itself free of wet. The drops go flying everywhere. It doesn’t matter where, just off, out of the fur.

‘Unavoidable,’ he says. ‘Work. Pressure.’

I am drenched with your words, by your tongue and the shake of your head that sends the wet drops flying at me, into me. Soaking me.

‘I hate being late, too,’ he...

Apples and Chamomile – Boston Literary Magazine

Heedful Nights – Storgy

Trapped – Flash Fiction North

Role Reversal – Potato Soup Journal

Waste Paper Love – Muddy River Poetry Review

Traces and View from a High Window – Nine Muses Poetry

Teacher – Listen Chamber Magazine

Before Crime and Punishment and the History of Tom Jones – Reflex Fiction

Dreaming Epidermis – Tales from the Moonlit Path

Reflections from an Epicure – Scarlet Leaf Review

Roadkill – The Blue Nib

Teacher – listen – Horla

After the...