Short Stories

The cold seeped through the seams of her flimsy jacket and Kat shivered violently. The icy finger of a zephyr curled its way around her neck like a scarf and raised goosebumps over her back. Impatiently, she pressed the doorbell for a third time. The snow had arrived a month earlier and had not left, lying in a thick blanket that seemed to hold in the freezing temperatures. Unable to cope, public transport had ground to a...

too many nights have gone on without sleeptoo many promises made that I couldn’t keep too many (record skip sound) being sniffed up into meto ever really care much about anythingmirrors they show reflection, but they don’t show through skinso there's been too many times where I’ve held it all intoo many times I haven’t known where to beginto tell her how I feel before the night ends

I O unceasing rain! You fill me with foreboding, As I lie awake All through the haunted hours That precede the golden dawn.II On the warm beach sand A spider’s trail meanders, A lone hunter’s path, Obscured by the summer breeze, Lost amidst the sighing dunes.III Pale chrysanthemum, Heavy with the autumn dew, For whom do you mourn? Will not the sun embrace you Come the promised break of dawn?IV A fallen willow Covered by t...