Story on a train 2: Rings

Oh-my-God-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god. Breathe, you stupid woman. Breathe. Oh-my-God-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god. What the Hell am I going to do? I can feel the ring on my finger burning my skin. Making the sheathed patch of skin itch and scratch and writhe away from the metal. Or am I projecting too much? I really need to get a grip. I…

Story on a train 1: Lamia

The man opposite was largely indifferent to her ample charms. This was rather annoying, as she was pretty sure she was more interesting than the suduku in the blasted paper. She licked her lips, pouting out the window at the grey sky and Battersea Dog’s Home as it flew past. That stench. It followed her….