Tag Archives: memory

Look Back

He learned many secrets as a child. Most of all, he learned how to hide his true self, even from himself. “Never look back,” they said, “into a mirror, for you will see your soul.” He understood their advice,and why … Continue reading

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Memory

I don’t remember when I began to forget I’d been taken. Time melded in my place, the basement, so seamlessly that in the end my former life was but a dream and the walls around me prescribed my only reality. … Continue reading

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Butterfly Girl (Horror Flash Fiction)

I cannot tell you what it is to be a butterfly girl. My lips are closed when words might be spoken and only open at their command for other services. My eyes shut more often than they allow in light, … Continue reading

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Skulls

These tales we tell From bleached bones Rattling teeth Open jaws Bereft of tongue and sinew Still we speak Piled high we tell Of death most foul Victims all Of power’s struggles We know the ineffable Truth of life and … Continue reading

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(Flash Fiction) Picture on the Wall

In my uncle’s house there is a curious picture on the lounge room wall.  It hangs above the television, which seems an odd place for it, for something in its tone and feel is ancient. A thing long before electricity … Continue reading

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(Flash Fiction) The Dream

He saw her in the dream. She was darkness, a shadow, always a willowy wisp of negative light. But she was a siren, in any case, calling to him. Sometimes he thought he remembered her from somewhere. He felt, even … Continue reading

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The Flavour of Spite – Twenty

Francine is remembering something, looking at his broken, dead body at her feet. She’s trying to feel something other than revulsion at this form. There is no pity, but beneath it all, there are memories, tugging at her. People like … Continue reading

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The Flavour of Spite – Thirteen

As more time passes, she is more resolute in her decision to see this as a challenge, like a boot camp for her mind, even though during this same extension of time the sessions make this increasingly hard to do.  … Continue reading

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The Flavour of Spite – Three

      I had the nightmare again. I woke shaking around 3am, the witching hour, the hour when most people suicide, according to some article I read many years before. It is the hour when the temperature is coldest, … Continue reading

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