Where to start this? Perhaps at the bead of sweat that formed at his temple. It was a hot afternoon and the air-conditioning in elevator wasn’t working. I watched...
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Where to start this? Perhaps at the bead of sweat that formed at his temple. It was a hot afternoon and the air-conditioning in elevator wasn’t working. I watched...
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For more years that he could count, Julian Stephen Atkinson had struggled under the colossal carapace of his self-restraint. He had only a hazy, stuttered memory of what life...
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I made a model of you, A man in black with a Meinkampf look And a love of the rack and the screw. And I said I do, I...
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It catches her. Every so often, it sneaks up when she thinks she’s past it and resigned, floods over her with no warning, a pyroclastic flow of ash and...
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So, today was the first of my monthy ERWA Blog posts. It may very well be my last when my co-bloggers are confronted with 2000 words of density. We’ll...
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There were some really great comments on my last post about the literary world and its aversion to including erotic sex scenes in literary fiction or eliciting arousal in...
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Last year, Arifa Akbar wrote an interesting article in The Independent: Bad sex please, we’re British: Can fictive sex ever have artistic merit? I’ll be honest, I’ve been ruminating...
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These days, I wax, but only out of nostalgia. _______ Lydia considered fate had been inexplicably kind to her. She’d survived the 90′s with nothing more than a mild...
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The throat’s convulsion makes no sound as the vocal chords are cut and the subject’s closed with time’s sutures. The fortune teller has said her sooth til the water’s...
It is said by the terminally smug. in a dubious attempt to stop the rabble from eating brains instead of cake, that you don’t miss what you don’t know....
It catches her. Every so often, it sneaks up when she thinks she’s past it and resigned, floods over her with no warning, a pyroclastic flow of ash and...