Change is an unnatural state, we’re fickle slabs of metal, purpose built cars refusing to be taken consciously by the crusher at the scrapyard. Yet as the metal contorts and writhes you’ve got to wonder is the damage eternally irreversible? The past collides with the present, I’m watching the future float out of eyesight, like … Continue reading Scrapyard
Flash fiction: Farming
He was curled up in her lap. His lips wrapped around her nipple. She played with his hair pulling on it causing him to softly moan in pain. Milk stained the rim of his lips. She watched the pig sucking hungrily at her sore teat. She was nursing him with apathy, like she would her … Continue reading Flash fiction: Farming
eyes crying? nose running? uterus bleeding? hotel trivago?
I just wanted to be Bukowski. it's three years on, and look at me now; a severe depressive, who doesn't get out of bed before 12pm, and can barely handle his emotions. Writing has become an afterthought, my own ambition handicapped by my overwhelming sense of futility. I need to stop using my blog in … Continue reading eyes crying? nose running? uterus bleeding? hotel trivago?
Her and the subsequent confusion
Been up to a lot this year; talked long with an ex(es), family tragedy and fell for someone. Now it's July, and all that's faded. Now I'm left listening to Conor Oberst's Ruminations. Knowing if I'd of stayed responding to her messages I'd of burnt out. Now maybe loneliness is my worst nightmare. Maybe in … Continue reading Her and the subsequent confusion
Beautiful pristine untouched virgin girl / messy cracked broken sexually active sad girl
I know a girl. That’s a mouthful. In fact to rephrase that; I know girls: I know one with an ever growing predilection for drugs, I know one with a horrible, soul crushingly bad taste in boys, I know one so narcissistic that the photos she takes of her bath products she thinks makes her … Continue reading Beautiful pristine untouched virgin girl / messy cracked broken sexually active sad girl
Flash fiction: Four months later
It had been four months since I'd last had a full conversation with her. I loved her more than I did whilst I was talking to her back in those sun drenched summer days. Now here I was in the days of winter, walking home from this decaying high school in bum fuck Omaha. A … Continue reading Flash fiction: Four months later
Flash fiction: One more personal demon on the list
It was summer, an Omaha summer, I hated the sun. My black pyjama t-shirt was soaked with sweat and I felt dizzy, the sun's rays broke through my blinds, whilst I talked to her; her being Elena Kitt, I 'd been talking to her for half of the school year now. I was in my … Continue reading Flash fiction: One more personal demon on the list
Flash fiction: It’s failed and there isn’t much that can be done
I hated most things; though I found solace in solitude and writing, as well as music. I sat up in my room, listening to The Smiths The queen is dead loudly. I knew that education had failed me, the teachers so damn carefree had with carelessness fucked about with education and now here I was … Continue reading Flash fiction: It’s failed and there isn’t much that can be done
Flash fiction: Just another overly romanticised lake
The lake was unpleasant. That was the only way Mitchell Wright could put it. "Oh my god you still like her don't you?" Sherrie Bluewood said to Mitchell, who sighed feeling stupid for what he had said. "Baby I don't I just said we got to know each other more recently." "Bullshit you liked her months … Continue reading Flash fiction: Just another overly romanticised lake
Flash fiction Prevailing domesticity
The Dammermen's sat at the dining room table inside their Omaha household, the rest of their family sat there as well, all together, eerily happy- all was right. It was December 25th 2014 the turkey had been cut and the family had reunited. Louise Dammermen's drug addled brother- Desmond who had recently been got divorced … Continue reading Flash fiction Prevailing domesticity
Ben Brizell 