I write. I've done it for a while, it gives me solace when nothing else can.

My latest work. Enjoy.

Set in a gritty future, this story takes place in a suburban jungle of glass and mortar where the predator is finance fueled organisations and the prey the desperate working class who seek in the words of Brad: “…like our not long past childhood, the candy shop where we bought our much meagerly anticipated 50p candy sticks. How our minds would ravel at the many different delightful dreams encompassed into a small caramel encased chocolate cover, neatly held together by the wrapper of our unfulfilled desire for love. What we wanted was a decent life; a lasting love. We wanted our candy store.”

“When the sun sets I escape the concrete paved streets, carefully guarded by the rusty iron lampposts, where every renegade leave his mark. Every day the police would sweep by like a hungry bird of prey seeking the fear riddled mice who scurry to and fro through the cracks in the pavements and the foul girders of the sewers, we would run through streets that spoke our names from every wall and every street corner, it screamed anger and frustration. It screamed revolution.

Of course this was not the dream that gently graced my mind later on when the darkness smothered the dusk and the sun bids a graceful farewell to a selfish yet sleepy city. Instead I speak of the strange yet abrupt realism that night brings, where fascination overcomes even the most blind of men and people seek for something that might hide behind that mysterious shroud. The night powerfully sways the body into a rhythm of self defiance as the body fights that essential need for sleep and instead the clear cut line between dreams and reality slowly begins to fade away into a not so far yet impossibly out of reach horizon.”