Peter Davidson

Her body felt hot beneath the silk as she shivered under my touch, my hands slowly tracing the contours of her body…

Forty-seven years since the Games, the remains of Parliament lie forlornly across the river.

She shrugged. I wanted to brush the hair from her face, hidden behind wind-blown golden strands. Instead she did it for me, taking down her sunglasses. Blue, ice-cold eyes appraised me.

The church was abandoned; within the empty sockets of its windows, a skeletal tracery held broken panes of stained glass.

Everyone, most of all Jim, knew he had no ‘Faith’. He shook his head, annoyed. No whispered prayer would bring this girl back to life.

The Spanish inquisition .. No one expects the Spanish Inquisition.

Her head fell; far below her, she studied a set of beautifully designed, open-toed and stiletto heeled Italian dreams. She stepped off the kerb.

I paused at the threshold, staring at the lurid symbols on the door and their blood-curdling descriptions of the fate awaiting any transgressor.

He remembered her warmth burning through the softness of the silk like the devil’s tongue as she’d wrapped her legs around his waist.

Her skirt rides higher and a flash of skin as pale as a lost memory transfixes me.

Nick had considered himself a lucky guy, until now.

‘Mr. Saunders, you look as if you could do with this.’

Nick looked up. A tough fireman covered in smoke and oily filth, held out the Br…

The stuff of nightmares and wonder, they burned in the furnace of our imaginations.

Like inhabitants of some grotesque Amsterdam whorehouse window, they ignore me …

I’m glad of the knife as my torch spears the gloom. For there, in the depths, a myriad of cold eyes wait, darkly reflecting the light.

I remembered she looked sexy in her starched white coat. Her slender fingers moving slow and sensuously, her smile telling me she wasn’t really stroking that rabbit at all.

A metallic tearing sound screeched like a disemboweled animal.

Sara sat alone, just inside one of many small coffee houses that lined a busy side street in Jerusalem.

In the empty room, abandoned and alone, her screams of anger and frustration filled the unheeding darkness.

My head rocked and my skin burnt as she hit me, again and again.

There was beauty in everything if you looked hard enough, he thought, appreciating without joy the art that life revealed.