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Entry Four HERE. --------------------------- ENTRY FIVE These are five entry doors from which to choose for anyone seeking a reality where death is fictitious. The first entry, as you can see, bears the symbol of a frothing tankard of real ale, the second some art by...

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by DF Lewis

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First published 'Dreams & Nightmares' 1996 "It's easy to imagine the subject of this painting being alive. Merely look at the face, the brown eyes shining through near tears, a hint of blusher on petal cheeks, shapely lips on the point of moving in speech..." The guide...

D.F. Lewis

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(written today and first published here) The Brahms Sonata for Cello and Piano was playing unnoticed in the foreground. I knew its notes by heart so, even though the deliciously poignant music was ‘in my face’ as it were, I allowed it to seep towards the back of the head where...

by DF Lewis

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A short fable written in the last few days as sequential to but separate from my trilogy.

by DF Lewis

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(written today)

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TO BE PUBLISHED IN 2012 - 'THE LAST BALCONY' COLLECTION (InkerMen Press)

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TO BE PUBLISHED IN 2012 - 'THE LAST BALCONY' COLLECTION (The InkerMen Press)

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Shall I sleep with one eye open? I have heard so many tales of chimneys that contain noises. And there is a chimney in the room where they’ve put me. I’ve already tried to stuff its flue with most of my own clothes – leaving me to sit on the bare bed, shivering in just my...

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http://images.yuku.com/image/png/88b26c5123686c6a0533c88ca4d587457d5103bd_t.jpg BODY TROUBLE It was as if you had problems with your own middle-aged body, but you knew it wasn’t you who could control it any longer. A strange feeling, as if you automatically knew you were looking at the...

by DF Lewis

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When you have a lot of worries, a useful piece of advice is to take one day at a time. I often think about this and do my best to take into account the implications of taking one day at a time. You see, I have a lot of worries and countless people who worry me with their own worries and...

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There was a sinking feeling among those who had exercised their typing-fingers in tune with the sentences they were hoping to produce that all they would end up with were different sentences. You could watch them sitting in their rows of desks, waggling their hands for several minutes in the...

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There used to be an expression used by exasperated parents in my younger days to their obstreperous children: “Don’t give me any of that old nonsense!” Whether that was a condemnation of ‘nonsense’ generally, or an implicit desire for ‘new nonsense’, I was never sure. But I decided the latter...

by DF Lewis

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Written today 5 March 2006.

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It was Candlemass. Today. A flickering February Second 2010, a day after Imbolc, a day after a dubious palindrome, now supposedly an occasion when Fredrik could enjoy, without conscience, all the waxlit shimmering. It was this effulgent shimmering that he allowed himself every day...

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Thanks to Phill (GSC) for the suggested title a very short time ago here: http://www.ligotti.net/showthread.php?p=39085#post39085 ================================================= Lewicidal Tendencies "It is with some pride that, today, I announce my untimely death....

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The Water Boatman Much cold water has flowed under the bridge since I last saw Alec. He was once important in my life – first encountered as the ice cream salesman who ever seemed to park his open-sided van outside my house with the ding dong tune relentlessly driving out the sound of...

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THE EXQUISITION First published 'Ocular' 1996 My name is Phillips and I have a journey to share. I intended to tell stories of the strange zones that inhabit the Elder Zodiac. But, once told, I've decided they're not stories at all. They merely employ my words from...

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There were grins at dawn. But not pure grins. The sun was frequently an open orange mouth as it emerged from the sea’s rim of night, at first revealing a downturned grin, but then as the whole mouth inched into view, its otherwise pure upturned grin became the bottom of the whole mouth,...

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Brandishing Knives It all started when Steve walked along the sea front. The sparse but geometrically lined-up township of wind turbines four miles off-shore slowly twirled ... “as if the sea were brandishing knives,” he thought. Not that he dreamed up such trenchantly poetic turns...