Not Even Tea

Not Even Tea by S. K. Nicholas at myredabyss. There’s something underneath the hood of this, that makes me feel at home. Don’t ask…I’m not even sure. What I am sure of: THIS is fucking writing!

Author S. K. Nicholas


I’m not a man. I’m not sure what I am, but it’s not a man. I’m just some kid who got lost along the way. Like that one in Flight of the Navigator when he fell down a hill and woke up after several years not having aged a day, or one of the Lost Boys, yeah, I’m a lost boy drifting like a dream on the outskirts of a drowning town that should’ve been put out of its misery years ago. I’m no more than a discarded shopping trolley left to sit and ponder what might have been in a parking lot home to rusting recycling bins and old mattresses dumped in the dead of night by travellers whose kids set light to cars in the early hours because that’s how they get their kicks. All those memories and near misses. All that dead skin and those suspicious stains…

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