Her scent was everywhere and, standing in the exact centre of her room, Jasper was in the middle of it; inhaling it, savouring it, willing to drown in it.  He sunk on her bed and turned among the sheets, smiling at the crisp, crunchy sound the cotton made as he eased his arms and legs about the bed, cooling his skin against the cold, smooth surface. Continue reading

The Amber Rose

Freyja sat at her dresser, staring at the rose still lying on its silk wrapping.  It was carved out of amber; every petal a perfect replica of the real thing;  lifelike veins lined the length of its stem, flecked by sharp thorns, the mere thought of their sting making Freyja’s eyes water. Continue reading


The lights in the hall switch off. Darkness consumes the space.  She runs with arms outstretched. Her fingers encounter wood.  She fumbles for the lock.  Finds it and  opens the door in a panic. She jumps onto the threshold.

Exhale.  The street lamps bring momentary relief.  But the street is deserted.  She is alone.     Continue reading

Vlad’s Love


Copyright-Claire Fuller

For years Vlad had studied her full lips and watched her figure swaying alluring, teasing, arousing him.  But she never saw him there, faithfully pining away, withering, starved of love.  He would have borne it if she remained alone, her heart unattached, untaken. But she hadn’t.  She fell for the other man. Seeing them in love, it broke him so he broke her in turn; her and the other man.  How they had screamed!  But now Vlad was even more desperate. His handiwork, which had seemed ingenious at first, had now sealed their fate to remain encased together eternally and him alone, watching. Continue reading

The Mayan Countdown, 21/12/12: Scenario Two

Elsewhere on the little island, at the harbour where the ferry that transports people to the closest international border was now berthed, a fight was brewing.  Five thousand people where pressing against each other on a dock that would fit a hundred and fifty.  Some had already fallen inside the dark, cold waves and were now floundering, trying to get footing on the overcrowded dock. They weren’t drowning; the islanders could swim as well as they could breath. Continue reading