Life Support Short story by Iris Carden She woke slowly. The pain at the back of her head was black, overwhelming, drawing her in, like a black hole pulling everything into itself. “Open your eyes”, she commanded herself. She tried to obey her own demand. Slowly she opened her eyes. Stark, white light burned its…… Continue reading Life Support
Since I started this blog, I’ve found that while I’m busy writing short stories and poetry for the blog, and short stories for competitions, my current major work in progress hasn’t been, well, progressing. Before I started the blog, I had three chapters of The Venomous Void, the sequel to Wendy Watchitt, written. As of…… Continue reading Work in Progress
Happy Easter dear readers. For Christians today is the most important day of the year, being the day we recall Jesus’ resurrection. For both Christians and non-Christians here in Australia, it’s also a day we tend to spend time with family and exchange Easter eggs. Typically Easter eggs are egg-shaped chocolate. Sometimes they’re rabbit-shaped or…… Continue reading Happy Easter
Short Story by Iris Carden Out damn spot! Karen groaned, and rolled over. Lady Macbeth. She was thinking of Lady Macbeth. Lady Macbeth awake in the middle of the night, trying to clean away her guilt. How could you wash away guilt? Not when the red blood was running down the walls of the house…… Continue reading Spring Cleaning
Excerpt from Muse Novel by Iris Carden Introduction The boy bounced the ball against the wall. He was bored and wished his mother had time to play. Dad was at work. Mum, however, no longer seemed to have time for him. She was busy with the tiny, pink object which was his new sister. When Mum had…… Continue reading Excerpt from Muse
There’s only two options here. Either it was all hallucination and I’m totally off my rocker, or the killers are still out there.
I started out with watercolour pencils and paint. After all, how difficult can a flamingo be?
Sadly for Toad, the sequel I’m working on right now, will have even more of the uncomfortable stuff, and very little of the fancy stuff she loves.
Wendy sat on her bed and looked at the empty boxes. She looked around the room at everything that still had to be packed – which was everything she owned. She sighed. Better get started.
Muse looks at a number of the things that people fear, not just the supernatural elements of the story, but far more mundane fears: the person who offers us help, but is really there to exploit our weakness; the person we love and support, who turns out to be a “monster”; the corrupt politician who uses their position for whatever personal gain.