On The Other Side From You (Novella by Dom)
It’s just an undulation, a wave of pain washing over, filling out around you. Let it wash past, or soak it up and wallow in it. Like a bandaid coming off, its pain only increases in intensity toward the end. And so I held it down. Pinned it to the ground by the neck. It writhed beneath my fingers, struggling for freedom.
I can remember when I was younger – we had a chopping block out the back. A hard wooden stump stained red-brown from frequent use. What would it be like to lay there, head detached in searing pain, watching your body run around without you? Even your body leaves you in the end, with only seconds ticking down till the moment of expiration. We all die in pieces. We all die alone. It’s such a quiet thing, such an intimate thing. Being herded like cows into the gallows. Being skinned and ripped to shreds by the cold metal machinery. Just to be eaten, chewed up and spat out. Discarded, taken away and interred into the ground. The drop, that’s the worst part. The slow motion fall from life into death. Life starts with a roar and ends with a quiet thud.
The Melancholy Detective (Novella by James & Dom)
This grey world which was the most diametrically opposite you could get to the greenery of life. An urban jungle, thick and dense but not seething with life or growth. Seething with death, or more correctly, undeath. The people skittered to and fro between work and home, work and home, work and home. The only deviation was to the grave.
The Creg Chronicles (Novel, by James & Dom)
I looked at her quizzically and motioned for her to take a seat on the end of the bed. There was obviously something wrong with her if she wasn’t impressed by Bruce Lee. She sat down, closing her eyes and trying to reclaim her composure. Either she was being swept off her feet like one of the girls in those Victorian dramas, or she had a headache. Girls always got headaches; I’d learnt that from watching half an episode of Friends one night when my mother was out. The key to girls was to catch them before they got a headache, or to distract them if they felt the onset of one.
The Creg Related Chronicles (Collection of Short Stories by Dom)
“Jack are you okay?” someone asked through the dark. A whisper really, it floated, lingered in his mind for a second. Clearly not. Clearly he wasn’t fine at all. What was she doing in bed with twins? Them over him, what a ridiculous notion. Takes two to compete with him, that much was right. What the hell had he gotten himself into with her? Nigel, this was Nigel’s fault. Picking him a slut, encouraging him that she was perfect. Obviously not. Obviously she was bedding two guys at once, wasn’t she? They were topless they must’ve been. At least, he thought they’d been topless. They could’ve been wearing anything, or nothing at all. He grasped at the memory but it was gone. The swirling of his mind had whipped it away, like a gust of wind through a photo album it pulled everything apart.
I stepped through and grabbed the small wooden boat, flipping it over and pushing it across the plants toward the waters edge. Creg was hot on my tail, padding through the soft ground which permeated that familiar smell of marshy pond mud. We both climbed in as I pushed us off. The sun hung high above us, a perfect yellow, dripping down through the blue arching sky. It was like a painting drawn by a child, strikingly vivid colours that melted into each other without any care to convention. It was beautiful; we were beautiful. It was the first time I felt beautiful in my entire life, but it was there, and it felt amazing. The boat wasn’t too big, it provided just enough room for the two of us. It only had one small oar, but we didn’t need it. We floated perfectly toward the middle of the pond. Both of us lying on our backs in the sun, enjoying it’s warmth on our faces and naked bodies. I had to rest my feet up and over the side, hanging them out of the boat, but Creg fit just fine.
“I wonder if we’ll get any freckles Bill,” Creg said with a smile in his voice.
“Maybe,” I whispered, feeling content.
“When I was little I asked my dad what they were and why I got them. He told me they were kisses from the sun.”
You Shall See (James & Dom)
I could smell cocoa powder for some reason and I imagined her on roller skates, her who looked so much like Maggie Gyllenhaal it struck me, and her who I wanted to blow a kiss to - through the window, through the air, through her lips. Or even just hang around, like some kind of half demented dog, kneeling at the letterbox that may as well have been on my own front door; waiting, lapping and excitedly expectorating as she came upon me like a hail of sealed up secrets, desperate to be explored.