by Michael S. Collins

All Lisa wanted was to be alone. Away from the images and noise and elements of the past, away from the dead end jobs and the illuminative colours that danced before her eyes, away from the sordid dreams and worse reality, and away from them. She lay on her bed. Lay still, and let the darkness of the night reign down upon her, let the ever-increasing stillness of reality approach faster than one would have liked it to have when she first decided to enjoy the stillness. The bottle fell to her side, it rolled onto the floor and fell away, unnoticed and unloved, much like its owner, transfixed by the quiet reverberations of the heart. Lisa was alone, and happy.


Michael S. Collins is a member of GSFWC (the Glasgow Strange-Fiction Writers Circle). He's been published in several countries and writes book reviews for The Fortean Times.