Human person. Chorley, Lancashire, UK.
Sarah’s heels smacked against the cobbled pavement with percussive pock sounds. Her conservative dress was smart, devoid of creases and the same…
The knife swept my forearm. Yellow blood dripped through the sliced skin. I’d forgotten. They didn’t make ours red. I hadn’t bled in years…
“It was free!” the man opposite me exclaimed. No warning; an otherwise silent bus journey. “Can you believe it?” he continued, his index finger…
