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Kristington

Kristington

Body Painter • Writer • Actor • Editor • Director • Perpetual Dabbler

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    Music

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    Flash Fiction: Words of Crepuscule

    ( No Title )

    I was lost – I was certain then. I’d refused to believe it at first. And for the next three hours. But after the fifty-millionth turn into an alley I couldn’t avoid no matter how hard I’d tried, it was time to admit the truth. I was absolutely and irrevocably lost. I dropped my bag […]

    Flake

    This house has always echoed. The walls are almost completely bare. We never invested in carpet. Don’t ask me why my very minimalist and utilitarian father moved us into a Victorian manor. I’ve been trying to answer that question to myself for years. When there’s nothing to suck up the sound, you hear everything. Every […]

    Heat

    Earlan looked on in horror as the sun spat out its tendrilous rays, thrashing the Alsviðr. It bent, parts of it expanding, parts turning to blackness, parts of it dripping into the liquidy globules they’d remembered seeing gallium make in water back on Earth. Their number two put a hand on Earlan’s shoulder, trying to pull them […]

    Loops

    I hate it: the screaming, the wind scraping at your face, the way your insides twist about. How do people ride roller-coasters for fun? I felt sick. Anna laughs like a lunatic at my side, gleefully taking in the sharp twists and turns. There’s some preteens in the seats in front of us, and a […]

    Ache

    Her feet hit the pavement hard. The sound of her sneakers smacking against the ground was no match against the pounding of her heart. She had to keep running. If she stopped… Sweat had no chance to pool, trickling down or flicking off her skin from the constant movement. If she ran hard enough, she […]

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