Dr Killerton’s Black Dog
A Halloween treat of a short story, as promised (c) Morwenna Blackwood 2026, all rights reserved Unauthorised distribution or copying strictly prohibited. Rain sparkled on the laboratory windows with the unsteady light of sequins. It was gone eleven o’clock, and Dr Killerton’s green and gold academic lamp was still burning. It was almost literally burning…
The Meaning in the Ghosts of Variables.
Dusk had fallen, unobtrusive and cold as a mist; the world outside my window was black when I turned the light on. The blackbirds were going mental, so I switched off the light and strained my eyes in the hopes of seeing a tawny owl, but the patches of sky uncovered by hawthorns remained clear.…
Green/Grey
Pylons watching. They buzz like fridges (Karma Police, Radiohead. Search it up, it’s a good song) – but there’s no sustenance inside, just death; like detuned radios without music. Pylons stand as a guard, or a warning, or a threat, close to the ‘welcome to’ village signs. Their wires cutting the sky, they stride across…
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‘Glasshouse’ image by Liam Powell http://facebook.com/liampowellart
All content on morwennablackwoodauthor.com (c) Morwenna Blackwood 2026. All rights reserved. Unauthorised distribution or copying is strictly prohibited.
