Excerpt from book #6, 'A Cacophony of Indifference'

'Once nightly drew the steakfire in bone through which slack taverns emptied their ashtrays into the trapdoor caverns of the mind that only the terminally deranged cared about. Through once dreaming the tabernacle velocity drew its mind, and seeping a discourse rapped silently for twelve hours through the mincing warp. Serendipity cleansed Turgut’s mind as he waited for his friend, fresh in the pure light of love that his neighbours had forgotten. Meaning dripped away like molten steel down church awnings, as steady ruptures clouded the brakes for an hour. Skimpy ruffalo thwarted his presence while Anthony flickered and crept around a laptop screen, clumsily fumbling for his arson tweaker as his attorney readjusted his belt. Hazy summer ruptures soddened the bedsit rat-traps, as the glacial ripples of the afternoon sun trickled through the curtains, moving over his fine curves with tendrilled chaos. Four ideas tumbled awry into heaven while he slapped some sun cream over his nipples onto shoulderblades, keeping white from red for at least another session or two. As the police sauntered heavy gentle into the rambunc glare of the afternoon, the bonnets of the cars humming with a radiant threat, shape-shifting to the vibrations of a July lunchtime. Slacklustre midday carrion was strewn across the freeway as the last arch ambulance screamed by, haring its fellow vehicles into the dusty ditch of the side of the road. There were forty seagulls clamouring now, pecking out the eyes of the blackbird and pigeons as they tried to feed their young on crusts of McDonalds burger buns and cold, hard French Fries. Five fingers fell through the damp crack in the sofa, where all that could be found were moaning clumps of hair, fish-spittled and reeking of month old tripe. Flesh obsessions flew through her black triumphed brain, as the roar of the Harley Davidson crunched up the gravel driveway of their picketed waspish bungalow, and the full-throttled conjoiners of tragic evening shakers pounded on the wire meshed front door.'

From 'A Cacophony of Indifference', out soon