Author: Lauren Thomas

Her creative mind sat quietly empty. Some days ideas had poured from her mind on to the page, multiple stories emerging at once, fighting for attention. Other days she sat with a blank stare and slumped shoulders, trying to coax out the ideas that she knew satS in the tightest of corners. She wondered if…

He sought out high places, even though they terrified him. He had climbed to the top of a cathedral and looked down at the miniature people beneath him. Felt the swoop and pull. He had taken an elevator to the highest floor of a hotel in California, gulped as the doors opened and the city…

“I wish you could talk.” I wish I could too. “We’d be the very best of friends.” Oh, I highly doubt that. “You could tell me which outfit you’d like to wear.” I’d like to tell you that I hate all of them. They’re demeaning. “I think the sailor outfit would be your favourite.” That’s…

The handwriting was confusingly familiar. It had the looping gs his mother had favoured, signing her name Margaret with a proud flourish on floral headed paper. But then it had the slanted ts his father had dashed out with an impatient hand, written in margins. The mismatch made him uncomfortable. It made him feel watched.…

“Excuse me!” “Sorry, didn’t see you there.” “No, you never do.” “Will you two stop arguing?” “Shh, she’s coming!” They fell silent as they watched her walk in the door of her 1920s house, kicking off her shoes and hanging up her keys. She had been surprised at work for her birthday, and she really,…

Walking at night was the only time that she could pretend. Because the night was meant to be silent. As long as you forgot that you used to be able to hear distant traffic and the scratch-scratch of unseen animals. At night she could convince herself that they were still there. The bulbs that hadn’t…

“This was used by Elizabethans to clean behind their nails. It’s super rare.” “Ah you see this? This was used by the upper classes in the 1930s. They used it to poke pigeons that wouldn’t move from their path. They were only really popular in the cities.” “This receptacle here is Georgian. It was specifically…

“I’m bored of this character now.” “Why?” “They’re just old. They’ve completed everything. There’s nothing left to do.” “So make them a special case. A ninety year old who can still run a marathon or something.” “Nah it’s been done. I think I want to start again.” “You know what to do then.” He hovered…

She put a hand on the top of her head and drew it away. Red. That telltale metallic tang. “You ok?” “Yep, just caught my head on the fencing. No biggie.” They looked around at the space before them, the ruins of the place where they had spent so many hours so many years ago.…