A catalogue of thoughts, (only accidentally profound or meaningful)
sky
it wasn’t until I was lying on my back, the lifeblood draining out of me, that I finally looked up – I’d never realised how beautiful the sky was until I was losing it.
walls
The Stitcher and The Speaker (Part Two) (The Speaker) “I just feel so angry all of the time.” (The Stitcher) “Good.” (The Speaker) “What?” (The Stitcher) “Given everything that is happening, it would be weird if you didn’t feel angry.” (The Speaker) “But it hurts so much.” (The Stitcher) “Anger is a powerful emotion. Anger…
Update on our Dystopia, 24th January, 2026
Another person executed by ICE…(he) was white, so maybe people will care this time. Anyway, don’t worry about all that; AI can now generate your final meal! It doesn’t taste of anything, but at least you won’t be around long enough to worry about your food getting cold. Alex Pretti, 37, murdered by ICE in…
29
(The Stitcher) “Are you sure that this is what you wish for?” (The Speaker) After a pause. “Yeah, I’m sure.” (The Stitcher) “You know, it won’t be easy, and it probably won’t go quite how you’re imagining.” (The Speaker) “Does it ever?” (The Stitcher) “So, despite it all, you’re going to give it one more…
Solace (Short Story)
Published by KAY ROWAN, March 2025 This story is a work of fiction. The names, characters and events are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. SOLACE Copyright © 2025 Kay Rowan Sitting in this tunnel really did feel like being…
For Renee Nicole Good
who was murdered by ICE. (8th January 2026) my mind has become a catalogue of scars.the never and the always again,the blood stain on a soft toy that can be seenby satellite eyes, the cradle buried six feet under foot,the lover who holds onto a desaturated life,breath stuttering like a film projector into white foggasps,…
Coming up for Air
We were drinking in borrowed cigarette smoke, a half- stubbed out thought etching embers into the half- light, resting on the ribs of the seat long since broken but too easily ignored, heaving with stolen lungs to chase away the inevitable day. I saw you, your heart searing a hole into the edges of the…
KAY ROWAN / GHOSTGIRL 