Immaculate Fracture
Short Story Dead children. Wasn’t that the final trigger? You see death, grown up death – and you become cold to it. You see suffering, brutality, cruelty, you immunise yourself to them and...
Author: Dylan Orchard
A Waiting Game
Flash Fiction The valley was magnanimous in it’s apathy. Ancients who had sat and lived in it all their lives could look to new arrivals with the comforting communal certainty that the sparsely wooded...
Forgotten Light
Poem About Exploitation A desperate grasp for distant lights obscures the dawn surrenders sight what was taken left un-returned what is given all unearned and the open hand becomes a balled up fist...
