Niche

I spend quite a lot of my spare time trying to find my niche.
I’m starting to suspect it was found in the 70s, bought up by greedy foreigners, polluted and fucked over then finally left to slowly decline, a glorious weed-covered wreck just marking off time until the sun explodes.

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Moving Day

She smiled, turned the key in the lock, then walked away from the empty old house for the last time, jumped into her car and drove off following the moving van down the deserted country road.

Inside the attic walls only the spiders and mice could hear the steady heartbeat of the man who lay muffled and bound in the pitch black.

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