Eddie was a bright guy.  I met him at college where he was studying literature and poetry and he had a real passion for it all.  He had a gift with words and loved a well crafted phrase loaded with booby-trap cleverness.   

Do you remember when you were a child?  Alone and hungry and crying for a mother that was beyond hearing?

He was sitting untouched by the noise and movement around him, day-to-day face glued to his head, perfectly convincing.  His hands moved over the keyboard, marionette appendages on strings of habit.

I wrote this ten years ago (heavens!) as part of a Phantom of the Opera fan event. It’s a short piece of fiction set during the formative years of the eponymous character and is connected to the character of the novel as opposed to any of the movie or theatrical interpretations. It is also the […]

I like a nice hot shower to help me recover from a heavy night out, and last night had been one of the heaviest. It had been the birthday of the girlfriend of a friend of someone I worked with so naturally I wanted to help her celebrate. It would be rude not to. About […]

  The pain is everywhere now.   The cords are tight around my arms and my legs, the long cuts on my back from the scourge weep blood, but the pain is no longer confined to arms, or legs, or cuts.   I am pain, a fire from head to toe flaring with every beat of my heart… or […]

The crack in Context hung before my eyes like a twisted thread of blue lightning, frozen immobile.  It was hair-thin but it shone, and as I walked around it the crack always showed me its same shape as though it was superimposed over the scene and how I viewed the scene was irrelevant.