Jeannette Sheehy

Maria wondered if she was suffering from a case of “writer’s block”.

Mrs. Zolton baked her weekly batch of pies; the smell so tantalizing, that Matt and Mark dramatically moaned in ecstasy,

(A tale of 2 Twisted Tale reprobates in boyhood)

Outside, as far as the eye could see was a blanket of white pinned down by a dull grey sky. And yet, there it was…the sound that had got her out of bed in the first place, faint but persistent.

He had fallen victim to another woman’s beguiling smile. I didn’t like it one bit; I thought her dangerous to our relationship. In a moment of passionate temper, I had issued an ultimatum.

After dinner, sticky and with purple stained lips, they had devoured each other on the kitchen floor amongst the packing cases.

Don’t cry; don’t let them know you’re scared. That’s what they trained for. They love the power.

Hidden in these shadows were the demons that they had all tried to push aside. They were not welcome. This was not the time to indulge them.

The tattoo expanded and contracted like a big ol’ bull-frog.

Minutes passed, pushing her into the beginnings of panic – that noise, that terrible noise – is that all she would remember at the end of her life?

A few years on, with an appalling lack of manners and tact, Tristan’s wife ran off with a young, sullen, stubble-faced writer.

Toxic-Tony I called him.The zingers he flung at me on a regular basis cut, tore and ground like broken grass into my fragility. Another door slammed shut inside me.

In the background was the sound of Dean Martin’s latest album, cool sounds to snap your fingers to. Dino’s tunes were so hot, they were uber-cool. But Mikey was sweating.

Once, when I told him he was out of line, he stood nose to nose with me screaming, “You cannot be serious!!”, too drunk to see the irony.

"You have the gift." my Grandmother used to say to me proudly, peering into my face and smoothing back my curls.

“Where are we?” Angel stood in the middle of the steaming jungle, weighed down with her backpack.

Jim strained to listen, every muscle in his body prepared to flee from possible danger. He musn’t be captured. People’s lives depended on him.

The demon stood in front of him, robed in black; licking his lips greedily at the thought of the punishment he was about to mete out to his victim.

“Listen, I know that we’ve stuck by each other through thick and thin, and I wouldn’t want to hurt you for the world…especially with the wedding looming in a couple of days…”

"I had to kill her, and now you’re telling me that I’m the one that has to dispose of her. It’s just not fair."

Nature was alive; bright, glorious and exultant.