short story – the girl who sang at funerals

Nora Birch held a funeral for the tree in the garden. She gave a speech to the attendees; her pink stuffed rabbit, Darla the rag doll, and a small crystal bird she had liberated from a silver cage at her aunt’s house years ago. Even though she had only met the tree the day before, [...]

short story: celestia pearl and the glass fairy

Celestia Pearl was made of rags and scraps. Her strings were frayed, her limbs were splintered. Her winter white hair was matted and knotted on top of her head, glistening like frost from old spilt glitter. Her grey-white dress was stained and threadbare and there were holes in her striped tights. From her perch on [...]

short story – skye sparrow

Skye Sparrow was weird. She had a weird name, weird clothes, weird sense of humour, weird taste in music. Her hair fell to her waist, a soft shade of lilac, and her lips were painted dark and inelegantly, as if she had crushed blackberries against her lips. She wore bold, mismatching colours in outdated fashions [...]

short story – perfect things

him There’s water in my lungs, but drowning isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. My eyes focus on the ribbon on my wrist; white with yellow flowers, a heart-shaped coffee stain, frayed edges. I wish I wasn’t dying. I wish I had been a stronger swimmer. I wish I had smiled back [...]

Sneak Peak – Ghost Girl

I'm working on a super awesome novel just now so short stories have taken a back seat (although they are always there for me when I want to procrastinate from the writing I'm supposed to be doing). This story, tentatively titled Ghost-Girl, may turn into a novella rather than a 'short' story. But I figured [...]

music : Chocolate Digestives (and le Berceuse de Champignons)

Here's something a little different today! Recently I've gotten back into music composition, something I find both amazingly fun and crazy difficult! The last time I finished any composition that I was happy with was a very, very long time ago. Maybe 2009, 2010? Yep! My method of composing is a lot like my method [...]

short-story : red, white and silver

There were still stitches on her chest, black thorns twisting over her heart. She ran a finger over the crude threads as she looked at the thin, snowy dress waiting for her and hoped that the stitches wouldn’t show beneath it. Bring me her heart, her stepmother had said. And so they had. Whatever beat [...]