Scientists were baffled.

Somehow, without their knowledge, another planet had appeared from behind the sun. It was about the same size as the moon. Its trajectory was planned to cross Earth’s path at exactly the wrong time.

Conclusion – the Earth was going to be nothing more than a floating pile of rocks and debris in less than 48 hours.

The dumbfounded scientists decided to come clean. Every major news broadcaster in the world declared that it was officially the end. Newspapers showed images of what the Earth would become. Famous celebrities tweeted pictures of themselves crying over the news.

Humanity descended into pure chaos. Shops were looted. Figure heads were murdered. Stock markets crashed, after all, what’s the worth of money when it wasn’t going to exist in a day’s time?

There were riots on the streets. Buildings were burnt to ashes with people still inside them.

People started doing crazy things. Pilots sent their planes down in fields. Doctors stopped performing surgeries mid-way and ran off, never to be seen again. Midwives mercy killed babies in their cribs.

Some didn’t want to wait for the catastrophe to take their lives. Overnight, a quarter of the earth’s population committed suicide. Whole states and even some countries encouraged their people into government assisted mass genocide.

Soon, there was only five minutes to go until impact. The giant ball of rock in the sky was blazing down like God’s wrath.

Five minutes became three, then one. Thirty seconds left until total annihilation.

Everyone gazed upwards at their incoming doom. The last ones left held their loved ones. Some were crying. Others screamed in anger and despair. A few had even started laughing. Then there were those had found peace long ago and closed their eyes, waiting for the end.






Absolute silence.

All of a sudden, the gigantic ball of rock and fury was gone. In its place was a large head. Its skin was grey and its eyes were huge and black. Its proboscis was emitting a loud snorting sound, somewhat akin to laughter.


Those who were still alive on earth were very quiet and very still.


Someone began to sob uncontrollably. The alien head scowled in annoyance.

“What? It was just a prank, bro. God, it’s a joke, not a probe – stop taking it so hard!”


After writing this, I have a bad feeling like it’s already been done before. So I apologise if I accidentally stole this story off anyone!

Holy Moly It’s Been a While

So! It’s been well over a year since my last post. A lot had happened since then.

  1. I am currently in Japan
  2. I have just finished writing a novel! I am now in the process of editing it.
  3. I have a ton more time to read and write!

So expect some more short stories coming your way!!

Dou(Double)ble Expo(Exposure)sure

I’ve had the idea for this story for a while and I’ve always wondered how I would write it.

I’ve tried to show  different perspectives by using normal font and italics to distinguish between two characters.

Read on and let me know what you think about the story and its structure.

Please enjoy ‘Dou(Double)ble Expo(Exposure)sure’.


I met her in the bathroom of my house.

I met her in the bathroom of my house.

I screamed when I saw her.

I screamed when I saw her.

Why was there some random naked girl in the bathroom with me?

Why was there some random naked girl in the bathroom with me?

I told her to get out and I yelled for Mum.

I told her to get out and I yelled for Mum.

I grabbed my towel from the rack and wrapped it around my waist.

She stole my towel from the rack and wrapped it around her waist.

I yelled out for Mum again and ran for the door.

I yelled out for Mum again and ran for the door.

We got stuck in the doorway and it hurt so much.

I yanked myself out and ran to my room.

I yanked myself out and ran to my room.

She was following me.

She was chasing me.

I shouted at her to leave me alone.

I shouted at her to leave me alone.

I ran into my room, slammed the door in the stranger’s face and fell back on my bed.

I opened the door and confronted the stranger who was laying on my bed.

Why wasn’t Mum here yet?

Why wasn’t Mum here yet?

With tears running down my cheeks, I begged her to get out of my room.

With tears running down my cheeks, I begged her to get out of my room.

She screamed that it was her room I was in.

She screamed that it was her room I was in. 

I shook my head and pointed to my books, my messy desk and my pet rat. I told her they were mine.

I shook my head and pointed to my books, my messy desk and my pet rat. I told her they were mine.

She said I was a fucking weirdo and that I needed to leave right now.

She said I was a fucking weirdo and that I needed to leave right now.

Frustrated, I grabbed the instant photo sitting on my bedside and showed it to the stranger. I told her that it was me with my best friend Emmie.

I stared at the photo of me and Emmie. Emmie looked fine, with beautiful long blonde hair and blue eyes, but the rest of the photo looked as if it had been double exposed.

Feeling a sudden uneasiness, I turned the photo around. Emmie looked fine, with beautiful long blonde hair and blue eyes, but the rest of the photo looked as if it had been double exposed.

One of the overlapping images looked like me, the other looked like the stranger lying on the bed.

One of the overlapping images looked like me, the other looked like the stranger standing above me.

My voice trembling, I asked the stranger who she was and how she got into my house. 

My voice trembling, I asked the stranger who she was and how she got into my house.

She said her name was Kagami and that she had lived here her entire life.

She said her name was Kagami and that she had lived here her entire life.

I grabbed another photo off of my bedside table. Like the photo of me and Emmie, it was also double exposed. When I recognised the stranger’s face underneath mine, I felt a chill go up my spine.

I glanced at the photo the stranger had taken off my bedside table. I felt my stomach drop when I recognised the stranger’s face floating over my own.

We tested each other. We took turns pointing to something in my room and describing how I got it.

We tested each other. We took turns pointing to something in my room and describing how I got it. 

She got every single one correct. 

How did she get every single fucking thing correct?

Something doesn’t feel right.

Something doesn’t feel right.

It was as if…something was where it shouldn’t be. Like a square peg in a round hole…or a weed in a flower garden.

It was as if…something was where it shouldn’t be. Like a round peg in a square hole…or a weed in a flower garden.

I looked at her and she looked at me, eyes wide with fear. We’d both had the exact same terrible thought.

I looked at her and she looked at me, eyes wide with dread. We’d both had the exact same terrible thought.

Without looking away from her, I reached under the bed for my hockey stick and gripped it firmly.

Without looking away from her, I grabbed the pair of scissors that were on top of my school project and hid them behind my back.

I nicely asked the stranger to prove that she lives here by showing me where the kitchen is.

I kindly replied to the stranger that she should really put some clothes on as she is stark naked in the middle of my room.

I firmly retorted that this is my room and I will put on clothes once she leaves.

I bluntly told her to let go of my baseball bat.

I paused and looked down at my hands. A thick wooden hockey stick met my gaze.

I lunged at her with the scissors and stabbed them into the side of her neck.

Gasping, I grabbed the side of my neck as blood poured down my shoulder and chest.

I pulled the scissors out and tried to stab at her chest.

As she stooped down low to stab me, I bit a chunk of her neck out.

When our bodies touched it was the worst pain I’d ever felt.

I groaned in pain and, stumbling to my feet, I raced out the door.

Spitting the bloody mess out of my mouth, I stumbled to my feet and race after her. 

I sprinted past the laundry and the living room, screaming for Mum.

I sprinted past the laundry and living room, screaming for Mum.

I ran into the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks.

I ran into the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks.

The woman standing by the sink both was and wasn’t my mother.

The woman standing by the sink both was and wasn’t my mother.

Kagami...it hurts so much…”

I stared at the abomination of a human, my eyes struggling to understand what I saw.

I tore my eyes away from her and looked through the kitchen window.

She had two overlapping lips, four erratically winking eyes and eight spasming limbs. The woman who was and wasn’t my mother sobbed with two distinct voices.

Outside, I saw two moons in the night sky. Their sides had merged into one another, creating a strange, bulbous shape.

As if we were magnets, I felt myself being drawn to the stranger on my right.

As if we were magnets, I felt myself being drawn to the stranger on my left.

I held out my hands to her but I didn’t want to.

I took hold of her hands despite every inch of my body begging me not to.

We pressed our bodies close together.

The pain was excruciating as we merged into a single form.




At 9:00pm last night, police were sent out to a disturbance at a suburban home in North Brisbane.

Neighbours reportedly heard screams from the one storey house that sounded like someone in ‘excruciating pain.’

When police received no response from the homeowner or her seventeen year old daughter, they entered the house and found a grisly sight in the kitchen.

The seventeen year old girl was found deceased on the kitchen floor. An official police source has stated that blood loss was the cause of her death. Information has been leaked that the deceased was found with multiple stab wounds and a severe gash on her neck.

The girl’s mother has yet to be found.

This area of Brisbane has been notorious for gruesome happenings over the past few years. Two years ago and only one street away from the most recent crime, a thirty five year old man was found dead in his home. He had simultaneously been stabbed in the back with a kitchen knife and shot in the chest with an unidentified firearm.

The suspects in this case have been yet to be identified.

Just last year, a twenty three year old man was also found with multiple injuries. He was taken to hospital in a serious but stable condition. When confronted by the media outside the hospital, he reportedly stated:

‘I’m me but I’m not me…I think double, my thoughts are double and I can’t sleep at night…”

The man was later admitted into a local psychiatric ward where he remains to this day.

Writing Prompt #1 – Zombies Fix Everything

Hello! I’ve just finished working on one of the writing prompts from the book ‘642 Things to Write About.’

If you’re interested in giving this prompt a go yourself, here it is:

Write a story in which each sentence will begin with a different letter of the alphabet, beginning with the letter A and moving sequentially.

I created this story on the fly, so apologies if it seems a bit grammatically strange.


Zombies Fix Everything

Atlantis wanted to sink deep into the centre of the Earth’s molten crust. Before she could say anything else, the boy of her dreams began walking away. Crowds of teenagers snickered behind her back, whispering nasty quips about the young woman’s failed courting attempt.

Devastated, she stumbled past the bystanders and ran into the disabled bathroom. Even though it had been poorly though out, Atlantis had not expected the encounter to be this nightmarish.

Filled with frustration and embarrassment, she tried to reach the lock below the doorknob. Getting onto the tips of her toes, she managed to just slide the bar lock with her fingertips. Hatred grew inside her – hatred not just for the assholes who had laughed at her, but at the school who always managed to find a way to inconvenience her.

I can’t even have a breakdown at school without being reminded that I’m barely four feet tall

Jaded by this revelation, Atlantis slumped down onto the tiled floor and held her head in her hands. Kory’s handsome face floated into her mind and tears finally began to roll down her cheeks.

Letting out soft sobs, Atlantis pressed the back of her head against the sterile tiles of the bathroom wall.

My my…are you really going to feel sorry for yourself just because a dumbass boy rejected you; you’re pathetic.

Nasty little voices taunted her and she felt as though she was outside again.

Oblivious to the knocking on the door in front of her, Atlantis curled up into a ball and thought about ways she could avoid school for the next few weeks. Perhaps she could try to catch bird flu off a sick pigeon or maybe even pay someone to hit her with a car.

Quietly, the knocking continued and Atlantis lifted her wet face.

“Really, I just- why don’t you just fuck off and leave me alone!”

“Sorry, I just wanted to see if you were okay…”

Tristen’s familiar voice brought Atlantis back to her senses. Unable to get back up on her numb legs, she crawled over to the door and pressed her ear against it.

“Vibrators get fucked over less than I do…” she muttered back sarcastically.

“Well, vibrators don’t’ have friends who have a 1.5 litre tub of Ben and Jerry’s in their fridge and every season of X-Files on Netflix.”

“X-Files, the original one?” Atlantis whimpered.

“You betcha, plus every single one of George A. Romero’s movies…” Tristen replied.

“Zombies fix everything…” Atlantis sighed, a small smile growing on her face.


Please let me know if you use the prompt by linking your post in the comments below. I’ll read each one!

Happy writings!





So I have been a real slack loser…

I could blame university.

I could blame my four full on weeks of teaching on prac.

I could blame all the assignments I have previously been working on, but in the end I only have myself to blame.

I haven’t written in months, at least, not anything worthwhile. I haven’t written a blog post in months either. That is soon going to change though, all thanks to my newest purchase.

File 9-06-2016 5 37 50 pm

This awesome book has so many amazing prompts for the struggling writer. From childhood memories to strange scenarios to odes to onions… I feel inspired just by flicking through it!

So watch this space, because I will hopefully be writing more soon!



Three Sentence Stories #3 feat. Milly vs. the Monster

Hello again! Please enjoy more three sentence stories that I came up with on my way to and from uni.

The continuing tale for this lot of stories (every odd paragraph this time) is about a young girl who has to face off against a savage beast. Will she prevail alone, or will religion guide her through it?


Milly’s Sunday school teacher Miss Webster had told her that the best way to get rid of monsters at night was to close her eyes and pray to God, so she did. When she was sure the coast was clear, she peeked out into the darkness through slitted eyes. When saw her Dad was still standing over her bed, she closed her eyes and tried to pray a little harder.


One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl and four for a boy. Rubbing her pregnant stomach, Lilian played the superstitious rhyme in her head as she looked at the two ugly magpies foraging under the telephone lines. She felt a sudden sharp pain in her abdomen and, as she fell to her knees, the larger of the magpies tackled the other and began pecking it to death on the earth below.


Milly’s father, the well-respected priest of a well known local church, roared with laughter when he found her praying by her bedside table. “Stupid girl; God isn’t going to save a little harlot like you!” Milly said nothing as she closed her eyes and clasped the inverted cross that hung around her neck.


Zoe had always wanted to be a princess like she saw in Disney movies, so when a tiny woman claiming to be a wish granting fairy appeared before her one day, she knew exactly what she wanted. “Now Zoe,” the small pink woman squeaked, a small grin appearing on her face, “the process of becoming a queen-to-be is irreversible, are you sure you want to – oh of course you do, here we go!” Hours later, as she was force fed royal jelly in a hexagonal comb by her humble servant, Zoe realised that perhaps not all wish granting fairies were very kind.


Milly awoke to find a small impish creature devouring something at the foot of her bed. “You’re safe now, go back to sleep child,” hissed an unearthly voice in between the ghastly sounds of teeth gnawing on bone. Smiling happily, the young girl snuggled down into her bedsheets and fell into a peaceful sleep.


Short Story Time – The First Date

This story might seem a bit strange compared to my previous ones; and it is. I’m hoping some people may feel a sense of familiarity when they read it, or even a sense of unfamiliarity.

Let me know what you think.


Meg waited for him at the centre of the ever busy Queen Street Mall.

She had spent hours choosing her outfit, plucking out any unsightly hairs and applying her winged eyeliner just right. Now, more dolled up than she had ever been in her life, she waited for her online date to show up.

He said he would be wearing a blue shirt with large black ‘I’ on it. Pretty easy to spot, she assumed; and it was.

She found him standing under a silver pole. He was very handsome, but Meg considered that a bonus. When they had chatted online, she had only ever seen one picture of him. It had made him seem quite plain, but Meg wasn’t one to judge appearances. She was a little plump and more than a little bit homely looking and she was quite aware of that.

What had caught her attention about him was just how intelligent he was. Not only was he a fellow writer, he was an avid reader of the classics. Meg had never met a man who had read all of Ernest Hemingway’s novels.

Meg always believed the old saying about beauty being on the inside. She thought at first that he was proof of that, but now as she approached him, she supposed that it was possible for beauty to shine inside and outside of a person.

“Adam?” Meg asked.

Adam turned his head and smiled as she approached.

“You must be Meg, nice to meet you.”

He held his hand out to her and she shook it. It felt warm and inviting.



They went to a quiet book store at the end of the mall. There, Adam talked about all of his favourite novelists – Edgar Allen Poe, H.P. Lovecraft, Jane Austin and of course, Ernest Hemingway. Meg had felt her eyes light up as he spoke. He was so passionate; she could feel herself falling in love with him.

After buying a few of his recommendations, they wandered through the mall for a while. Adam explained how he had just graduated from university as a creative writer and Meg interjected that she too was doing creative writing. He continued, saying how he had several projects he was working on currently and how he was certain they would be finished soon.

Meg found a space to talk and mentioned that she owned a blog where she wrote all of her stories.

“I absolutely love writing short stories; they make up most of my writing.” She said, smiling happily at him.

He gave her a small, polite smile and then went silent. A few seconds later, he began talking about one of his most recent writing projects.



He took her to a burger joint for lunch.

She rolled her eyes playfully as she imagined the mess eating a burger would make.

“Wow, what a great place to go for a first date, Adam!” She said to him, giggling.

She glanced over at him, expecting something witty in response. Adam just gave her another small, polite smile.

“It is a great place, isn’t it?” He replied in a sincere tone.

Meg chuckled as her date gave such a deadpan reply. She really did like being with this guy.

As they waited for their lunch to come, he told her more about himself. He described how stressed he had gotten at university and how he nearly had a breakdown. Meg imagined the poor man bent over his desk, anxious about his half-finished novels.  She couldn’t believe how much he cared about his work.

He soon switched topics and asked her how she was enjoying the date. Meg replied that she was loving it. He mentioned how he had been paranoid that it would not go so well. Meg just laughed.

“Don’t worry about it; I get worried before dates too!” She said, taking a sip of her drink.

She was in awe over how well this was all going. Meg had only had two other boyfriends before and both had been terrible mistakes. Adam was something else. He was so smart and even though he had never left the country before, he was worldly too. She began fantasising about them going on overseas adventures together, writing side by side and being so in love.

Meg noticed Adam had begun fidgeting with his hands and before she could ask what was wrong, he blurted out:

“I have something I need to tell you that I think is important.”

Meg’s smile faltered slightly. It wasn’t that his voice sounded gravely serious, or worried or upset. It was the fact that his voice sounded the exact same as it had throughout their entire date.

“Okay, what is it?” She asked her voice inclining as she finished her sentence.

He looked her straight in the eyes as he spoke in his unchanging tone.

“I am a robot.”

Meg gave her date a dumbfounded look.

He lifted his arm and peeled away a flap of the silicone skin. Underneath, she could see gears whirring and small lights flashing.

Meg felt the fantasy in her mind shatter into millions of unsalvageable pieces. An uneasy smile surfaced on her face.

“O-oh…” She found herself stammering.

She quickly shoved a straw in her gaping mouth and took a long drink from her glass.



As they walked down to his favourite park, she began noticing all the signs she had missed before.

Every time he took a step she could hear the clunking of gears.  She began hearing the slightest traces of static when he spoke. His blank face was the biggest tell tale sign, though. It was just too perfect and generic.

Meg felt like a complete fool. She didn’t understand how she could have been so oblivious.

At least she now knew why he hadn’t responded to her jokes properly.

They sat on a bench together and he continued to talk about his favourite novels. She said nothing and just nodded. She figured he must be a publishing robot, programmed to talk about nothing but books.

“Well Meg, I have nothing left to say. I’ve run through my entire catalogue.” Adam said to her, blinking.

“Oh, ok…” Meg replied.

He stood up and gave her another polite smile.

“I have thoroughly enjoyed meeting you, Meg. I was worried it wouldn’t go well, but I think it did. I hope we can meet again soon.”

He held out his hand to her and she shook it. It was devoid of any warmth she had once felt.



When she got home that night, Meg did some research on her computer. She typed the phrase ‘dating a robot’. Google came back with over 20 million results. She read through the first page of results.

How to Date a Robot

Can Robots Love Like Regular Humans?

10 Things to NOT do on a Date with a Robot

Robots – All you need to know about dating and SEX

My Robot Boyfriend RUINED MY LIFE – Why you SHOULDN’T date a Robot

She clicked on the first link which took her to a health website for women. The article was written by a woman who specialised in couple’s therapy and robot psychology.

Meg read the piece, feeling her heart sink the further down she went.

She discovered that although some robots seem to show emotions, in the end it is all just programmed into them. They tended to be socially awkward and were terrible at reading people. Some robots even malfunctioned and sometimes said inappropriate things out loud.

They also needed to be maintained on a daily basis by a robot handler. By forming a relationship with a robot, you’re assumed to be the robot’s new handler, not just their lover.

Meg found the comments section even more disheartening.

Several people spoke about their horrible failed marriages. One man gave a testimony about his 30 year marriage to a robot woman.

When I first met her, she seemed shy and eccentric, but I thought that was just who she was. Then after we married, she showed her true colours. She told me she was a robot and she had to perform her robot duties each and every day. 30 years later and she’s always whirring about the place with as much emotions as an onion. We never have sex any more; after all, she sees no use for it. She doesn’t even ask me how I am after a long day of working. My advice – if you find out your date is a robot, do a 180 and run.

Some people ranted about how wrong the woman who wrote the article was. One lady spoke of how she was happily married to her robot husband for several years.

I find this article misleading and poorly written. Me and James have been together for many years now. He’s a wonderful soul mate and we get along really well. It’s all about putting effort into your relationships. If you go into a relationship with a robot expecting it to be easy, it’ll fall apart. Relationships are about supporting each other. If you love your robot man or woman enough, you’ll stick by them and help them and they’ll show their own way of loving you.

Another commenter, a robot herself, explained how offended she felt by the professional’s statements.

I may be a robot, but I’m built with the likeness and intelligence of a human. Sure, I have troubles making friends and going on dates, but I’m not completely worthless. Stop treating me like I’m nothing but a piece of scrap metal!

Meg felt a mixture of sadness and guilt course through her.

Her first thought was there was no way she could date a robot. The idea of spending her life fixing Adam every day just sounded like a big waste of her time. Then she realised how horrible that made her appear. She began to mentally scold herself.

You loved him when he was talking about books yet the moment he said he was a robot you shirked away. What was that about beauty being on the inside?

But she knew that he had no ordinary insides. All Adam had inside of him were gears, pistons and microchips. He wasn’t built like an ordinary human.

Meg took a deep breath and opened up Facebook. Adam had sent her a message.

Hi Meg, thanks again for the date, I really enjoyed it. I was too paranoid to say anything, but I thought you looked quite pretty today.

Meg stared at the message for several minutes. She wondered how long it had taken him to write those two sentences to her. She could imagine his fingers slowly tapping out the message, the little gears inside his knuckles whirring as he typed. She closed the page and opened up a new word document.

She began to write a story.  As she typed into the late hours of the evening, she hoped she would figure out how to reply to Adam.

She never did.