Category: MigraineGothic
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Deprivation (a short story)
On a derelict property, located on some backwater road of a forgotten suburb, there was a small shed. Inside the shed was a portable table, on which there was a candle, burnt half-way down as it rested on its tin-can platter. The room had a door to the outside, and…
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SWIPED (a short story)
“One last time,” Jim said as he opened the dating app. He hated to think how much time and money he had wasted to go nowhere and get nothing, but today could be his lucky day so, “one last time.” He popped a heart onto several lovely lady’s profiles, skipped…
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Wrecked (a short story)
Dear Mother, I hope this letter finds you well, and certainly better than it leaves me. Finding my way in the world has been more difficult than I envisioned. After three years of floating across the globe, I thought I had found my haven, my own personal slice of paradise…
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Half-life (a short story)
Helen slapped the alarm into silence, then leapt out of bed. In the shower, her mind roved over her wardrobe as she picked out the blouse and skirt she would wear to work. She deliberated on whether to wear stockings or not. “Not,” she said to herself as she remembered…
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A Halloween story
Today is Halloween… and I would love to have a real-life Halloween horror story to tell you… but I don’t. In Australia Halloween is not a big thing… (although it is growing)… only once as a kid do I remember dressing up to go trick-or-treating. I vaguely remember I was…
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A Gothic Migraine
15 years ago, when I first started thinking about going back to university to do my PhD, I considered studying Gothic Literature and its relationship with Gothic Architecture (both the original Medieval version, and the neo-gothic copies that were being made in the late 1800s – early 1900s). In preparation…
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The haunting migraine of Hill House
I grew up in a haunted house. It was a 100-year-old bungalow that was apparently built by a whaling captain. It never occurred to me to be scared, because my parents never showed any concern and kept smiling. My mother laughed about the presence of Old George, whilst my father…
The Mindful Migraine 