Mr Rinyo-Clacton’s Offer

Post addressed to Jonathan Fitch came through my letter-box, and that was who I was. I had a National Insurance number and an account at Lloyds; I had a shoe size and a blood type and a bunch of keys. I was twenty-eight years old and not too bad looking; in the past, when things came to an end with a woman, I’d always been able to find someone new. But now that Serafina was gone I realised too late that I was possessed by her – I had no self to offer anyone else. The house of my self is built on a rock of panic. Now the house was gone and only the panic remained.

And then:

1. Naked Lunch She seized a safety-pin caked with blood and rust, gouged a great hole in her leg which seemed to hang...
2. Past ‘n’ present Looking into the Past is one of those Flickr groups that you wish you’d thought of. It seems a little...
3. Mr Rinyo-Clacton’s Offer When I turned on the lights the place came out of the darkness like an animal caught in the headlamps...
4. A Perfect Day for Bananafish the young man put on his robe, closed the lapels tight, and jammed his towel into his pocket. he picked...
5. The Human Factor It surprised him, as though, in penetrating a familiar cave, on some holiday at the sea, he had observed on...
6. The Outsider The trigger gave. I felt the underside of the polished butt and it was there, in that sharp but deafening...