Three months have passed since the death of my wife. It has been a long summer, hot and unbearable. My only solace is knowing that it will be my last. I sweat incessantly. Others thrive in the sickly heat. Oh, that the rain would rinse the smiles from their faces. I keep my ghastly body hidden from the outside. Sometimes I cough. Recently more and more. But I rarely dwell on this. Hacking out a thick wad I get on with my business of living and dying. It is all I know.
Continue reading “Summer Nightsweats by Shane O’Neill”Tag: prostitution
Cheap Tricks by Alex Sinclair – Warning Adult Content
“Thanks love,” the red-faced punter wheezed, tossing over a tenner, as Charity Proudfoot wiped away the spunk he had dispensed on her lip with the back of a frayed coat sleeve.
She didn’t reciprocate with a banal pleasantry of her own, as per usual, she just took the dishonest twenty and climbed out the motor, which is how she knew a monster of a rattle was on the way if she didn’t hurry up and get her shit together. Normally you couldn’t shut her up.
Charity the chatterbox had been her school moniker, or as her mam preferred, a right mouthy little pain in the arse.
Continue reading “Cheap Tricks by Alex Sinclair – Warning Adult Content”Haunt Me Like You Hate Me by Alex Sinclair
“Men are gold, and women are white cloth. Gold, once sullied, can be cleaned and polished, while white cloth, once soiled and torn, can never be clean again.”
Khmer proverb
Continue reading “Haunt Me Like You Hate Me by Alex Sinclair”The Scrapheap Centaur by Alex Sinclair. Caution – Extreme Adult Content.
Do not read if you may be offended by explicit sexual references.
Continue reading “The Scrapheap Centaur by Alex Sinclair. Caution – Extreme Adult Content.”
Alicia by Desmond Kelly
Alicia snapped awake. There was a fine silk cobweb covering her face. It felt as if she was suffocating. She reached out, clawing at her face, scratching off the surface texture. She was down to the scars when the blood started to flow.
He Promised Her An Ocean by Miriam Burke
Taddeo gets up with the sun; he prides himself on not being one of those Brazilians who think every day should be carnaval. He looks out his twelfth floor window at glass and concrete towers that are home to people from all countries of the world, people who live peacefully together. He’s proud of his adopted city.