Short Stories

The Misty Mirror, part I

Baths didn’t make sense. Not to him anyway, and certainly not in winters. He’d be standing in the freezing bathroom with his clothes off, hugging himself and swaying and jumping and shivering, trying to keep warm, and then he’d switch on the shower, which would gush icy streams of water. Wondered what lies beneath? read on to find more…


There didn’t seem to be much difference between being asleep and awake these days, she thought, her eyes opening for the first time that morning. Sleep gave her the ability to act, without sufficient opportunity, while being awake afforded plenty of opportunity and cause, but little, if any, scope for action.