The Executioner

The first time he had seen justice, he was four years old and yet nothing special in form still. A weedy boy. Skinnier than most children but fairly clean at his mother’s insistence. His hair was the colour of sun baked cow manure, his lips thin and nose stubby. The almost too large eyes he… Continue reading The Executioner

The Amazon House

These people aren’t people, they are gods, she decided. They had no need for moon or stars to navigate the nocturnal seas in the way that her people did. They had strange tools instead. Talismans perhaps. She tucked her chin deeper into her grizzled wolf pelt, breathing air into it so that it may warm her briefly instead of being swallowed immediately by the ungrateful sky.

Under the Gun. PSNI – The Godfathers of PTSD?

[[File:PSNI traffic.jpeg|PSNI_traffic]] photo credit to lottolads https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

Trigger warning 18+

Steve – Excerpt from ‘Not Your Legacy’

  They were coming, I could hear them. They wailed for no purpose because the one they sought to rescue was beyond all help. A flash of blue whipped round the corner. Dad was here. And on his tail in hot pursuit was the emergency response unit…