Scratchings on the Page

Thoughts, Stories and Randomness from the mind of a writer


Short Story

This is just to inform the world that not only am I finally writing again, but I am writing a same-sex dark soul-mate story for the magazine. Not that I'm trying to push at the confines of Catholic education or... Continue Reading →


Editing down

So I'm currently writing a review for The Children of Húrin, and I'm very easily bored, so I've been flicking through my notebook. This starts all the way back at a review for Amy and Roger's Epic Detour, and continues... Continue Reading →

Some of you may have noticed a pop-up within the past day or so. Basically I've decided to try to do this thing where I try to write at least one story a month, and at the end of each... Continue Reading →

Whispers from the Stands

So I don't know whether or not I mentioned this, but at the beginning of the holiday I entered a local short story competition. Now, my Dad told me that there was no way I would win it three years... Continue Reading →

For one moment (Or: What Happens on NCS…)

Your friend comes up to me at lunch. I’m sat on the lawn, basking in sunlight and daisies, and his words are like a bucket of icy water which disrupt the peace I adore: of the sun on my face... Continue Reading →

Daughter of the Oceans

The Lady of the Lake looked out over the battle and sighed. She had known that this day was coming for many moons, but still she had hoped that she had misread the signs. Such things had been known to... Continue Reading →

The Butterfly Girl: A Self Portrait

This is an old story, but I'm proud of it, and I thought I'd share it: There’s a girl sat alone as the butterfly flies in. She’s always there, working alone and in silence; steadily—as though she has all the... Continue Reading →

Graeae Part Three: Horror

Clad in saffron robes, splattered with blood, it is not hard to guess Enyo’s meaning. She is the giver of Horror, the Waster of Cities, and she delights in it. She has not the longing for death of her sister Dread, for each sister is plagued by her own meaning, and Enyo has no dread of the future to hold her back, just a horror of the present and of what has already happened. The horror of innocents is the sweetest of tastes, and she savours it whenever it is available, for as with their eye, the sisters share but one tooth between them. It does not help her feed on food, but on what her power causes, and she delights in this small freedom each day.

Graeae Part Two: Dread

She’s been grey for as long as she can remember, from the moment of her birth, and will be until the moment of her death. When death comes at last, a sweet release from the dark world she lives in, time will reverse itself, to an era that has never been before. When death comes at last, the darkness that surrounds her will fade, and light will blossom. When death comes at last, her crooked back will straighten, her hair will fade from grey to black, and her cheeks will bloom with the delicate pink of the youth that she was denied. But that will not happen yet.

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