Oliver Dean
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Everything posted by Oliver Dean
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You are there in the morning, like a dagger still sunk into an open wound, your arms around me. I feel your faded heat, tepid now, drained of its violent passion like a lanced boil. Smells rise from beneath the blankets, scents of activities you desired the moment you saw me seated at my desk, my scribbled notebooks placed under the shadow of the irregular verbs table pinned to the wall. What will they say if they open the door and find us entwined together like puppies, our naked sin
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A student and his French tutor fall in love
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My story
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You're thick as bricks, Lydia thought as the blade slid through the soft flesh of the carrot, cracked down on the wooden cutting board, and nicked the edge of her ring finger. She unwrapped a band aid and slipped it over the tender tip of her finger. Outside, a flock of seagulls swooped down, the wind rippling their raised feathers as they landed on the thin strip of wire that served as a garden fence. Once, as a child, her father had caught her helping herself to an extra piece of roast ch
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Three families meet together to celebrate the new millennium.
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Thanks so much! I’m so happy you liked it.
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Mornings have never been a great time for me. The sun, with its beady little beams poking in through the curtains like a grandmother wondering if her grandkid still looks cute when he sleeps even though he's over thirty. I hate that sneakiness, the way you get so much delicious darkness at night, perfect for sleeping but then, just when you're dozing off, along comes Miss orange-tinged dawn, ruining everything with her pitiful beauty. It doesn't help that I work nights down at the supermarket, s
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A man is woken up by a strange voice and finds his mirror not only can talk but also has a message for him.
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Dew glistened on the grass as he fastened his boots, the thin leather cold through the holes in his ancient his socks. Smoke rose up in the distance in thin trickles over the densely forested mountains. The ashes of his own fire lay bland and grey, long dead. In the distance, someone coughed hard, a nasty rattling cough he recognized from his time in hospital. He won't stay long, either, Jack thought as he finished tying his laces. He gave the boots a quick stamp on the wet grass, flipped down t
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A historical short story set in New Zealand during the late 1800’s
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I caught a glimpse of the tip of one of his wings one night. His head sat level with my chest, and behind him, long white feathers stuck out, their fraying, grey and black edges flapping slightly like treetops in a breeze with each of his gentle movements. He seemed to have his hands inside me, although how I do not know as I could see no hole. Below his wrists, where his hands should have been, the limbs simply ended. I felt a sting of pain in my chest as his tongue ran over his lips, his eyes,
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A man wakes up to find a stranger standing over him.
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Even in the dark something seemed off key, like a piano played by a child wearing novelty bear paws. The wind nibbled at the shutters, pulled tight against the icy-lipped wind. In spite of the darkness, I could make out the frame hanging where I had put it only hours before. Whatever was happening, it could wait for morning. I closed my eyes, hoping the warmth of the blankets would drag me back down into unconsciousness. The high-pitched scratch of chair on wooden floor boards woke me up more in
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A man wakes up and hears strange noises downstairs. When he goes downstairs, he finds two strange men drinking his wine. They invite him to join in, leading to strange consequences.
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Thanks, I’ll have a look.
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He strode in, the mask tugged tight over his face. It was too small for his round cheeks and uncut hair, and he could feel his heart beat around his eyes. The security guard had his phone out, and his fingers tapped against the screen, a hint of smile on his thin lips. The cashier counted out twenties for a middle-aged woman, who stood with her arms crossed, staring at the floor. In the queue for the counters, a fat man stood puffing, searching for something in his bag which he had swung across
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A man who is desperate for money robs a bank, with unexpected consequences.
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Thanks for the great advice, James. I put the sex scene at the start because it’s what leads to the rest of the story but you might be right and I’ll think about that for the next story.
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Jeffrey only invited me out a drink for two things- to talk about his book on Foucault, and to spend ten minutes together in the bathroom. His leg pressed against mine under the table, and I could feel his calf muscles tightening and relaxing. He swilled his wine, the glass held up to the light as if the flowing, red liquid could offer him some as yet unconsidered insight into our conversation. "But you must admit, Foucault had a point," he said, finally sipping his wine, and I could see h
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A twenty year old cheats on his boyfriend only to find the man has a sexual disease. Scared he will give this to his boyfriend and get dumped, he goes to seek advice from his boyfriends ex who has now become a woman.
