The Click of the Shutting Graham Wynd She waited for the sound of it, the sound that meant safety, the sound that meant it was over for now. The time it was when his shouts might soften, sometimes even turn to tears and beg forgiveness, beg for comfort, remind her again how it was…
Read part 1 here. 2 It was their first ever encore. The others wouldn’t have paid attention but Frazer had been waiting for such a moment to come. Ego, yeah. So what? You had to have an ego to get out there every weekend and play to the punters who seldom care if you lived…
She had a mouth that could raise the dead. It had raised me plenty over the years, but I’d never been close enough to Rosaline’s orbit to do anything about it. Until tonight. I brought her a third martini and her tongue had loosened enough to share some sage advice with me as she leaned…
When your books are less than successful, when you find it hard to make a splash, people tend to say the same kind of things: Don’t give up! Your audience is out there! You’ll find them and connect. Stick with it. I am here to tell you that this is not true. The…
The bass thrummed like a distant heartbeat from deep in the earth, as if a long-buried temple called forth its adherents from slumbering death. Frazer didn’t even have to look up from her drum kit to know the band were swaying as one to its tempo. Even Pike who could barely exist without flapping his…
The scene was perfect. Hollywood could not do it justice. A quiet house at the end of the lane. Two young people on their own. The baby they were sitting had been tucked in long ago, sleeping in chubby-fisted peace. And the scary movie – somewhat snowy despite all attempts to adjust the antenna –…
Here it is barely Grimace; Time to deck the malls. Wish you a hairy crossbus; Fall down all the golden balls. Hark the Harold angles bring Glory to the edge-lord bling. Dashing through the pub, With a one-horse foamy ale, Oh, what fun it is to slide Through tat that’s cheap on sale. Olé. Grimble…
‘That do for you, Tommy?’ Eric had a think. Surely he was always Frank and Earnest: Frank in the north, Ernie in the south. This was north. ‘Frank, love, the name’s Frank.’ Daftie. But she was well fit, a regular gym devotee. He was a bit surprised when she responded so well to his flirting.…
In 1950’s America, Sandra’s parents send her off to a small town university in order to keep her out of trouble. While there she encounters Trixie Faust and the rest of the Sigma Tau Nu sorority. Blood, sex and satanism quickly ensure.In spades! Satan’s Sorority by Graham Wynd is a smart, witty and marvelously well written…
The row of houses stood much the same as he stepped down from the train. They had browned, as if muddy showers from passing busses had caked in the sun, baking to a tobacco stain of the pub floor. Unintentional outcomes of the smoking ban, eh? Sebastian wondered if she changed the locks, but…
Punk Noir Magazine 
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