You never quite know what a writer can do until you read one of their short stories, or, at least, that is what Dom believes.
He began reading short stories in 2019 and became engrossed with short tales by amazing novelists including P.D James, Sylvia Plath, Julia O’Faolain and more.
Dom finds that most of his creativity comes from dark and often disturbing places, with a lot of his short stories exploring the horrific side of human nature. His mum keeps telling him to write a nice story, and though he has tried, he hasn’t managed it yet.
If you are a fan of horror, dystopian worlds and blood-stained thrillers then get your teeth stuck into this lot.
Dom’s first published work The Right Honourable is also available to read on this page.
Dom is planning to release a short story at least once a month. If he hasn’t posted anything new recently why not head over to his Updates Blog? Or read excerpts from his upcoming debut novel; A Better Crown?
When Lee Price, newly dead husband, was outed as a woman-beater in an online article by the Evening Star, Harvey Ramsgate suddenly found himself at the centre of a movement of women who were not only lauding his journalism skills but touting him as a feminist figure of justice. He had dared to call out an abuser who just happened to be deceased. Harvey had said that tragic death did not abstain him from being held to account and Harvey was placed on a pedestal for doing so.
Read MoreHe sees that the Thunderbird is sweating, thick beads clinging to his tall forehead, running from the thatch of dirty blonde hair. Perhaps Scott is going to sample the coffee as well, or maybe a pot of tea. Perhaps Scott will sit in the sun alone, enjoying the sunshine and his beverage, without being pestered by the shortness of life. Perhaps Scott will worry less about the running down of the clock and simply enjoy the time he has instead of arguing with his girlfriend; wasting time in a pointless skirmish.
Read MoreI visited that forsaken place long ago. I silently crept down the sloping path to my own end, scared of the jagged blackness around me. I was eager to find him, apprehensive at our impending meeting, mystified by the tales that shrouded his visage.
Could he truly be what I had sought for so long? Could he truly envelop me in his crooked arms? Take me into the folds of his cloying breath?
Read MoreI’m minutes from home now. Then it will be changing, unpacking, washing up, sorting dinner, exercise and calling mum. Then we will watch the latest TV series; the one endless social media adverts have told us to enjoy. Once we’ve unplugged ourselves from that we will then, irrefutably, go to bed. She will sleep. I will endure the six or seven hours of half-sleep afforded to me by the dregs of the day.
Read MoreYou pay tenfold for the drinks you consumed the night before, you regret the takeaway you drunkenly ate, you taste acrid smoke and ash in your mouth but still feel compelled to finish the packet of cigarettes you bought on a whim. Endless, reckless, destructive cycles.
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