Vixie's stories

  Catchment White feathers in the catchment seek to reflect the faintest flicker of light, dispatch a slick sensation of listening in to fle...

  Hi, I’ve published some new ebooks. One is a fictional detective mystery with a supernatural edge, set in Victorian London, called Tirips ...

  North Star The North Star is where it wants to be, never seen. This is an apple yard, where passersby pick the ripened fruit, leave nibble...

  Lost & Found At the Lost & Found, they look into brown puppy-dog eyes, stare in deep, see a furry face light up, tongue roll, watc...

  Ink  We are ink, dotted on paper, mute words waiting for a voice to awaken them, inquisitive hands to turn the pages, open eyes to read th...

    Spiral   To the in-between, red spiral walking, an unravelling ribbon like the bent stem of a flower, clipped wing of a bird, cry of a r...

Hatchlings   Surf rises, the severed sun sets, seagulls holler on the updraft, looping and diving, circling out in this cerulean blue-violet...

  Betrayal can take many forms. Most people will get betrayed at least once in their life; for some, it's once, for others many times.  ...

  Summer sun   In the pure morning, sunlight bursts dew-coursed streams, a rebirth, outflow, red embers glowing in murmurs of another time. ...

  Drift   Driftwood, the ebb and the flow and the flood, where breath comes to stop and start, and here we are, treading water, adrift in th...