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'We do not dwell here!...For why would anyone wish to live in this place of earth and bones?'

We'd all risen to shake hands...well at least I think we did...come to think of it, I can't be certain that these strange beings, who seemed so eager to meet with me, had hands to shake!

Am I really different? Or did you build me up...

Just a poem of random thoughts of mine

Out of the gloom comes the travelling man, tall as a tree with fingers the colour of bone, searching for little children to see what magic tricks shift and writhe in his suitcase...

In the early hours of the morning as the whole town sleeps, a man goes to the launderette every Tuesday. What is he doing there? And why does he leave with strange artifacts?

"This is how I want to be buried!" I say happy as ever as I pull the gun from behind my back.

A girl who's life changes in am Instant.

I'm sitting here in a hospital bed with not a single flower or balloon or cheap stuffed bear in sight.

I killed the girl.

It's a single paragraph short story... I pretty much copy pasted it from a google doc of short stories I wrote in my spare time (Although I improve it.)... forty five of them if I'm not mistaken.

UK Political Satire article