It'd Hardly Been a While
A collection of short stories which, when read, barely make sense.
My clothes were entirely made from torn garments I’d ripped from commuters in crowded train carriages. I’d chortle when I overheard thirsty consumers talk in numbers, declaring how little they paid for their bargains.
Murder was so ugly. But then again so was he, and I simply didn’t have time for affectionate clients.
Sometimes, I sit near affectionate couples, close my eyes, and pretend that they’re saying all the nice things to me instead.
Although this lamp provided me with all my worldly desires, I can’t help but feel I set the bar too low.
It rained heavily; she stood soaked, apathetically without cover, a soggy cigarette pursed between her lips. ‘Here’ a fellow pedestrian remarked, switching out her damp supply of nicotine with a fresh stick. She remained stood, apathetically without cover. A soggy cigarette pursed between her lips.
A municipal rise to fame had seen me garnish ‘Very Important Person’ status in my local. Nationwide I was unknown, but to the few folk I’d had no desire to mingle with, I was nally someone.